America as a Source of Risk: Why India, France and Ukraine Increasingly Distrust “Managed...

By September 15, 2026, discussions of the United States in India, France and Ukraine have come to revolve not around any single crisis, but around a sense that American policy is overextended. The focus is on the US war with Iran and the blockade of the Strait of Hormuz, Washington’s latest attempt to advance Ukrainian-Russian negotiations, and the increasingly overtly transactional style of Donald Trump’s administration—even in its relations with formal allies. Local commentators assess America’s motives differently, but agree on the central point: the problem is no longer simply that Washington uses force or pressure. It is that its partners find it increasingly difficult to understand the limits of that power, the value of American promises and the rules that will apply tomorrow.

The most immediately painful issue for India is Hormuz. From the Indian perspective, the American campaign against Iran ceased long ago to be a distant Middle Eastern war: it is affecting shipping, energy supplies, Indian sailors and millions of Indian workers in the Gulf states. At a meeting with Iranian President Masoud Pezeshkian on September 11, Prime Minister Narendra Modi spoke of “lasting peace” and freedom of navigation and trade—a deliberately diplomatic formula, but one directed in substance at both sides of the conflict. For New Delhi, freedom of passage through Hormuz is not an abstract principle of international law but a condition of economic security. (theprint.in)

The editorial board of The Indian Express draws an extremely stark local conclusion: until a lasting agreement emerges on the management of the Strait of Hormuz, military strikes and economic escalation will resume. Indian debate shows particular irritation at the fact that both Tehran, which uses the strait as a lever of pressure, and Washington, which responds with blockade, sanctions and military force, are turning an international route into an instrument of their own struggle. An earlier editorial in the same newspaper called the situation a trap between Iranian blackmail and unilateral American pressure; its human dimension is the death and disappearance of Indian tanker crew members. (indianexpress.com)

The French view of the same war is less personal, but no less тревожен. French media are primarily following how the escalation in the Middle East is changing the global balance of power, oil markets and Europe’s ability to act independently. In a Le Monde analysis, the Houthis’ successes along the Red Sea coast are described as strengthening Iran’s negotiating position vis-à-vis the United States: Tehran is gaining the ability to exert pressure simultaneously on two key maritime corridors—Hormuz and Bab el-Mandeb. The French concern here is that the American military campaign is not isolating the conflict but expanding the number of points where regional actors can dictate terms to global trade. (lemonde.fr)

Indian criticism goes deeper than simple pacifism. In Amitabh Mattoo’s column, a painful point for New Delhi comes through: proximity to Washington does not equal influence over Washington. Mattoo writes that a pause in the war or negotiations could give markets some respite, but would not eliminate the causes of the crisis—Iran’s regional policy, Israel’s problems, the Gulf’s vulnerability and, as he puts it, Trump’s “hubris.” More important is something else: India is discovering that its economic interests and the safety of its citizens may become secondary when America determines the negotiating parties and the structure of a deal. This represents an unexpectedly sharp reassessment of relations that New Delhi until recently often described as a strategic rapprochement. (indianexpress.com)

In Ukraine, the irritant is different, but the logic of how the United States is perceived is similar: Washington is essential, yet its mediation increasingly appears to be a source of dangerous oversimplification. Following Steve Witkoff and Jared Kushner’s visits to Moscow and Kyiv, the Ukrainian agenda focused on a statement Kushner made on September 12 at the YES forum in Kyiv. He effectively said that an agreement could already be ready if Ukraine agreed to withdraw to the line of Vladimir Putin’s territorial demands. Ukrainska Pravda conveyed the reaction without diplomatic softening: the American envoy made the delay in the deal conditional on Kyiv’s unwillingness to make territorial concessions and proposed linking the question of borders to the situation on the battlefield. (pravda.com.ua)

For Ukrainian audiences, this is not simply an ill-judged remark by a mediator. It is perceived as an attempt to replace the question of aggression with a question about the mechanics of compromise. The publication also noted that Kushner avoided speaking about Russia’s genocide in Ukraine and used symmetrical language about the suffering of both sides. It was especially symbolic that an air-raid alert sounded in Kyiv as he discussed Russia’s readiness for a settlement. This produces a fundamental Ukrainian counterargument: surrendering territory under the threat of continued violence cannot be treated as negotiating “flexibility.” (pravda.com.ua)

In Ukrainska Pravda’s analysis, the visit by the American representatives is called an attempt to restart negotiations that had reached a dead end, but without expectations of a rapid breakthrough. Ukrainian sources quoted by the publication emphasize the asymmetry of the diplomatic process: Witkoff had previously visited Putin six times and Kushner twice, whereas their September trip was their first visit to Kyiv; at the same time, the American delegation was not given the opportunity to visit Bucha and Irpin. In the Ukrainian reading, this is not a matter of protocol but a sign that Moscow still knows how to set the framework for negotiations. (pravda.com.ua)

France occupies an intermediate position in the Ukrainian story, between Kyiv’s concerns and the need to preserve a channel for negotiations. French representatives took part in meetings with the American delegation in Kyiv alongside their British and German counterparts. But the French press noted the absence of a diplomatic breakthrough and the parties’ caution regarding their next steps. (lemonde.fr) For Paris, American mediation remains indispensable, since it is difficult to imagine credible security guarantees or pressure on Moscow without the United States. Yet the participation of France and other European countries is also an attempt to prevent Ukraine’s fate from being discussed solely through a Washington-Moscow bilateral framework, in which European security becomes an adjunct to a broader American deal.

These two crises give rise to a common theme—the erosion of trust in the United States as a predictable ally. In France, it has found almost literal expression in gold. Le Monde economic columnist Isabelle Chaperon described the Netherlands’ transfer of part of its gold reserves from the United States to London as central banks “voting with their bars” against the unreliability of the American ally. This does not mean an immediate break with the dollar system. But the gesture itself shows that European distrust of Trump’s policies has become so strong that it is penetrating an area where decisions are usually made for decades. (lemonde.fr)

An episode involving the French ambassador in Washington is even more telling. According to Le Monde, Paris had to publicly express “regret” over its own July statement on human rights in order to lift the American blockade of the appointment of a new ambassador. France’s formula—that disagreements over a vote do not cancel the historic alliance and close dialogue—testifies to the nervousness of the moment: the alliance has to be specifically reaffirmed precisely because it is no longer perceived as automatic. (lemonde.fr)

India sees the same problem through trade. In trade expert Ajay Srivastava’s column, American tariff policy is described as an increasingly permanent, multilayered and unpredictable system in which tariffs have become an instrument not only of trade but also of foreign policy. The author advises New Delhi not to yield under pressure, to strengthen its competitiveness, diversify its markets and preserve its policy autonomy. This is an important shift: the United States remains a critical partner for India in the Indo-Pacific, but is increasingly viewed not as a guarantor of strategic support, but as a market and negotiating partner capable of changing the rules at any moment. (indianexpress.com)

A paradoxical international picture is taking shape. Ukraine cannot do without America’s military and diplomatic role, but fears that Trump’s desire to end the conflict quickly will turn its sovereignty into a bargaining chip. France still needs the United States for European security, but is responding to American unpredictability by seeking strategic and financial autonomy. India cooperates with Washington to contain China, yet the experience of Hormuz and tariff threats is leading it to conclude that the partnership must be less emotional and more calculating.

The main local realization is not that America has become weaker. Rather, India, France and Ukraine are increasingly seeing a different America: a country that retains enormous capacity to change the course of wars, markets and negotiations, but is becoming less and less able to convince its partners that this power will be used according to stable rules. That is why reactions to the United States today sound not like anti-Americanism, but like a demand for insurance against American policy—in supply routes, gold reserves, European participation in negotiations and trade diversification.

❮ ❯

Trump and Global Instability

Donald Trump’s decisions and foreign-policy course continue to cause concern far beyond the United States. Legal resistance to his restrictions, possible agreements with Russia, pressure on Ukraine, diplomacy toward Iran, and sanctions policy are increasing uncertainty surrounding America’s commitments. Against this backdrop, concerns are growing about new confrontations with China and Russia, as well as the consequences of Washington’s decisions for global security. This material is based on publications by 24tv.ua (Ukraine) and elpais.com (Venezuela).

Ukraine on the War: Technology, Resilience, and the Cost of Resistance

For Ukraine, the war is not an abstract geopolitical dispute but a daily reality in which the front line is increasingly penetrating the lives of cities far from the battlefield. In an interview with 24 Kanal, American intelligence officer and Marine Matthew Sampson, who has served in Ukraine’s Defense Forces since 2022, discusses the technological transformation of warfare, the prospects for negotiations with Moscow, NATO security, and the Ukrainian experience that could become a resource for its allies.

However, questions from the journalist from Zaporizhzhia give the conversation a more personal dimension. She notes that the city has recently become more dangerous than it was in 2024: drones can reach the city center, anti-drone nets cover some districts, and her family continues to live there. Behind the widespread admiration for Ukrainian resilience, the journalist emphasizes, it is impossible to ignore the real price: “These Ukrainians are truly resilient, but they are paying an enormous price for it.”

This is especially acute in Kherson, where FPV-drone attacks on civilians are described as a “human safari.” In the Ukrainian view, such strikes are not an inevitable side effect of hostilities but a deliberate campaign of terror against the civilian population. The constant threat, deaths, and chronic psychological strain have become part of life in cities near the front line.

At the same time, Sampson believes that Ukraine is already significantly changing the very nature of modern warfare. According to him, on the Zaporizhzhia front, ground-based robotic systems deliver ammunition, water, food, and medical supplies to forward positions. In some units, such systems account for up to 90% of supplies. In his assessment, robotic logistics not only increases the military’s effectiveness but also reduces risks to service members, including those evacuating the wounded.

Artificial intelligence is also taking on particular importance. Sampson spoke about using AI to process intercepted communications and identify targets, while stressing that the final decision to use weapons remains with a human. Ukraine, forced to adapt rapidly to Russian military pressure, is turning that adaptation into a technological advantage of its own.

In Sampson’s view, the country can no longer be regarded solely as a recipient of Western aid. In 2022–2023, Ukraine, as he put it, “imported security,” turning to partners for weapons, ammunition, and air-defense systems. It is now gradually beginning to “export security” by sharing combat experience, technological solutions, and approaches to military training with its allies.

From this perspective, investment in Ukrainian drone production, the creation of joint U.S.-Ukrainian funds, and military-cooperation programs should be seen not as charity but as an investment in the security of Europe and the United States. Ukraine is seeking to establish itself not as the West’s peripheral front but as one of its important defense and technology partners.

Sampson is also skeptical of attempts to reach a political agreement with the Kremlin without applying serious pressure. He believes Moscow will agree only to terms involving the transfer of Ukrainian territory. “Russia is losing this war… The only question is when you decide to surrender,” he said, comparing Vladimir Putin’s position with that of Adolf Hitler at the final stage of World War II.

For Ukrainian audiences, this comparison reflects a widespread belief: an aggressor cannot be stopped through concessions because it sees compromise not as a path to peace but as a sign of the opponent’s weakness. That is why negotiations without military, political, and economic pressure on Russia are considered largely ineffective in Kyiv.

The interview also presents the war in Ukraine as part of a broader threat to NATO. Sampson warns that Russian hybrid operations in Germany, the United Kingdom, and other countries could develop into a direct confrontation if the Kremlin concludes that the Alliance is unwilling to respond. In response, the journalist expresses an idea important to Ukraine’s debate about the future: Kyiv may not need to passively wait to join NATO “in 10–15 years,” but should already be strengthening a regional security system with Poland, the Baltic states, Romania, the Scandinavian countries, the United Kingdom, and Germany.

This approach assumes that Ukraine can be not only an object of collective defense but also one of its pillars. Its combat experience, advanced drone industry, and ability to resist the Russian army are viewed as assets capable of strengthening European security.

Sampson also discusses the role of Russian propaganda and, in his view, the Kremlin’s systematic underestimation of Ukraine. He believes that Russia’s leadership and part of its society exist within a fictional narrative in which the invasion is presented as “liberation.” As an example, he cites accounts from Ukrainians who experienced occupation: Russian soldiers sincerely asked local residents whether they were happy that the troops had arrived.

For Ukraine, this confirms that the war is based not only on government decisions and military orders but also on a deeply rooted imperial ideology. References to the Chernobyl disaster, the sinking of the Kursk submarine, and the collapse of the Soviet Union in 1991 are used in the conversation to characterize a political culture associated with secrecy, lies, and an unwillingness to acknowledge its own failures.

At the same time, Sampson does not deny Ukraine’s own problems, particularly corruption. He acknowledges that it makes it harder to explain the need to support Kyiv to an American audience. But, he says, there is a fundamental difference between concealing abuses and fighting them publicly. Ukraine investigates corruption cases, detains suspects, strengthens oversight of Western aid, and expands the digitalization of public services.

For Kyiv, this is not only a matter of its reputation with partners. A state seeking weapons, investment, technological cooperation, and a central role in Europe’s security architecture must demonstrate its ability to ensure transparency, pursue reforms, and govern effectively.

The main conclusion of the interview is that Ukrainian resistance cannot be reduced to a slogan about indomitability. Behind the successes in drone warfare, robotic logistics, and international cooperation lie exhaustion, trauma, civilian deaths, and daily risks for military personnel. Ukraine insists that its survival has become part of the security of the entire West, while also reminding the world that the country’s resilience does not erase the high price people are paying for it.

U.S. Court Temporarily Blocks Trump’s Mail-Voting Restrictions

The U.S. Supreme Court temporarily blocked Donald Trump’s initiative to standardize and tighten mail-voting rules ahead of the midterm elections. As EL PAÍS reports, the key argument was that states and local authorities were not prepared to implement the new requirements quickly without risking the disenfranchisement of millions of voters.

Justice Brett Kavanaugh stated that “state and local election officials do not have sufficient time to reasonably implement the rule before the election.” Thus, the court’s decision became a temporary barrier against changing the procedure at a time when any technical error or administrative delay could directly affect voter participation.

Possible disruptions to the work of the U.S. Postal Service caused particular concern. One of its employees warned of the risk of a “catastrophic failure”: errors in barcodes or an inadequately prepared digital system could have resulted in entire batches of ballots not being delivered on time. In an election, such a problem would mean not merely logistical inconvenience but the potential loss of votes belonging to thousands or millions of people.

Trump justified the need for the changes by citing the fight against fraud. However, the publication notes that he continues to make such claims without evidence following his defeat in the 2020 election. Democratic Senator Chuck Schumer called the initiative an attempt to “make voting more difficult” and said it was “clearly unconstitutional.”

The dispute is especially important for Latino communities, including Venezuelans living in the United States following the large-scale migration of recent years. For many workers with long hours, unstable employment, or limited mobility, voting by mail remains one of the few realistic ways to participate in elections. Restricting this mechanism would have affected most severely those who find it difficult to take a day off or reach a polling place in person.

For a Venezuelan audience, the story may appear to be a telling example of the importance of independent institutions. In a society where voter registration, access to voting, ballot counting, and the legitimacy of results have long been sources of mistrust and political controversy, the American legal conflict is not perceived as a technical debate. It serves as a reminder that election rules can change the real balance of political participation.

At the center of the situation is the question of who has the authority to determine electoral procedures and whether it is permissible to change them shortly before voting, when such steps could affect the composition of the electorate and the outcome of a campaign. The Supreme Court’s decision does not resolve the dispute, but it shows that the executive branch may face limits if its actions threaten citizens’ access to the ballot.

This is the main conclusion that can be drawn from the EL PAÍS publication: the resilience of democracy is determined not only by holding elections but also by the ability of judicial, electoral, and administrative institutions to prevent in time measures capable of depriving citizens of their right to vote.

❮ ❯

America Between a Deal and Retreat: How Ukraine, Israel and Russia Read Trump’s Signals

By September 14, 2026, the United States had simultaneously become the leading—but highly ambiguous—participant in two conflicts: the attempt to restart negotiations on the Russian-Ukrainian war and a new phase of confrontation with Iran. In Kyiv, Jerusalem and Moscow, these developments are not viewed as manifestations of a single American strategy, but as actions by Donald Trump’s administration, for which the speed of reaching a deal, domestic political advantage and a reluctance to become bogged down in yet another war often matter more than traditional allied commitments. The common thread in all three countries is the question of where American mediation ends and pressure on partners to make concessions begins.

The most painful issue remains Ukraine. Following Steve Witkoff’s and Jared Kushner’s visits to Moscow on September 5 and Kyiv on September 6, the Ukrainian reaction intensified sharply because of Kushner’s remarks at the YES forum on September 12. According to his version, an agreement would be nearly complete if Ukraine agreed to withdraw to the line demanded by Vladimir Putin. For Ukrainian audiences, this sounded not like a neutral mediation formula, but like shifting responsibility for the absence of peace from the aggressor to the country under attack. The contrast highlighted in a Ukrainska Pravda report was particularly telling: while the American envoy spoke about finding the “right formula” and postwar economic prosperity, an air-raid alert was sounding in Kyiv. (pravda.com.ua)

Ukrainian criticism, however, is directed not simply against negotiations themselves. Kyiv is ready for a diplomatic process, but fears that Washington is trying to turn the reality on the battlefield into a legal basis for a territorial settlement. Following his meeting with American representatives, President Volodymyr Zelensky emphasized the need for a winter air-defense package, energy support and American LNG, while warning that without a strong position on the battlefield, negotiations turn into ultimatums. That is why, in the Ukrainian debate, American diplomacy is inseparable from the issue of military aid: a mediator who calls for compromise but does not strengthen the side’s defenses risks being perceived as a source of pressure rather than a guarantor of peace. (cpd.gov.ua)

In Russia’s public discourse, the same diplomatic episode looks almost like a mirror image. Moscow welcomes the very fact of direct contact with the White House and especially values the fact that the American side is discussing not an abstract ceasefire, but the political structure of the postwar order. In a Kommersant analysis, presidential aide Yuri Ushakov conveyed the Kremlin’s assessment: the results of Witkoff’s and Kushner’s visit were received “as a positive,” while Trump linked the end of the war to the prospect of a large-scale restoration of Russian-American trade relations. (kommersant.ru) Russian commentators see the value of the current moment primarily in the fact that the United States no longer appears to be Kyiv’s unconditional political patron and is prepared to discuss the parameters of a settlement directly with Moscow.

But even in Russian analysis, optimism is limited. In a commentary for Kommersant FM, commentator Dmitry Drize notes that real peace talks will most likely depend on the outcome of the winter campaign, while the current contact merely preserves “some kind of” chance for dialogue. (kommersant.ru) This is an important detail: the Russian debate does not assume that Trump is capable of imposing a solution immediately. Rather, his administration is viewed as a channel through which American involvement in the war can be reduced, discussion of the “realities on the ground” can be consolidated, and transatlantic unity weakened. Expert Georgy Asatryan states Russia’s minimum objective directly in Kommersant: to keep the United States as far away as possible from deep involvement in the conflict. (kommersant.ru)

Israel’s perception of Washington is shaped by a different fear: not that America is too deeply involved, but that it may step back at a decisive moment. The strengthening of the Houthis near the Bab el-Mandeb Strait, uncertainty surrounding Iran and American caution ahead of the November midterm elections have created a sense of unreliability in Israel, even amid formally close relations with the White House. In a column for Israel Hayom, military commentator Yoav Limor describes Trump’s current policy as a troubling retreat from the role of global policeman. In his assessment, Washington is effectively leaving its allies alone to deal with the consequences of the Houthis’ growing strength and Iran’s influence. (israelhayom.co.il)

For Israelis, what is most sensitive is not the fact that the United States is unwilling to open a new front, but the practical effect of that reluctance. If Saudi Arabia, under pressure from Iran and the Houthis, begins seeking closer ties with Turkey, Qatar or even Tehran, that would mean a weakening of the regional architecture on which Jerusalem had been counting. Limor also emphasizes another, almost paradoxical dependency: Israel would like to act against a possible revival of Iran’s nuclear program, but is unlikely to do so without clear American consent. (israelhayom.co.il) In other words, American disengagement does not automatically make Israel freer—it makes it more anxious and more dependent on an unpredictable political signal from Washington.

Russia’s interpretation of the U.S.-Iranian escalation, by contrast, focuses on its manageability and electoral function. In a Vedomosti analysis, Americanist Pavel Koshkin describes what is happening as a “controlled escalation”: both sides are demonstrating toughness but are not seeking a new, uncontrollable spiral of war. He links Trump’s rhetoric to the task of maintaining the image of a decisive leader ahead of the U.S. midterm elections. (vedomosti.ru) In this logic, Iran is not only a Middle Eastern crisis for Moscow, but also a tool that diverts American resources, attention and ammunition away from Ukraine.

This is where the Ukrainian, Israeli and Russian perspectives converge, despite their opposing interests. Ukraine fears that the United States will trade principle for a quick agreement; Israel fears that America will trade allied reliability for an unwillingness to take risks before the elections; Russia hopes that Trump’s pragmatism will allow the conflict to be shifted from the realm of pressure to the realm of bargaining. The most unexpected common feature of these reactions is that almost no one believes in American “omnipotence.” Kyiv doubts that Washington will ensure a just peace, Jerusalem doubts that it will ensure deterrence, and Moscow doubts that it can easily force Ukraine and Europe to accept the Russian formula. America remains the central power, but its partners and opponents are increasingly planning their actions not on the basis of its promises, but on the likelihood that it may change the terms of the deal.

❮ ❯

America as a Source of Three Anxieties: Oil, Deals and the Cost of Alliances

By September 14, 2026, discussions about the United States in South Korea, Brazil and Ukraine revolve not around a single news story, but around a sense that Washington has simultaneously become the main generator of geopolitical instability, financial pressure and unpredictable diplomacy. In Seoul, particular attention is focused on how the U.S.-Iran war and possible tariffs are affecting the industrial economy. In Brazil, the United States is discussed primarily through the price of oil, the exchange rate of the dollar and yields on U.S. government debt. In Ukraine, meanwhile, American activity is viewed through a much more existential lens: is peaceful diplomacy possible if the mediator is seeking a quick deal while Russia continues the war?

The broadest common theme is the impact of the American conflict with Iran. For Brazil, this is not an abstract Middle Eastern war, but a contradictory economic shock. Brent crude rising above $100 initially appears beneficial for an oil exporter and for Petrobras, but almost immediately turns into pressure on the real, inflation expectations and Brazilian interest rates. In a Folha de S.Paulo analysis, Avenue strategist Fernando Saad Bernardes captures this duality particularly well: Brazil benefits from improved terms of trade as a result of expensive oil, but the market nevertheless begins viewing the country more cautiously. In other words, oil revenues do not eliminate capital flight from risk when a war involving the United States makes dollar financing more expensive and threatens another surge in global inflation.

Brazil’s response is notable for its pragmatism. There is less debate about whether the United States is right in its confrontation with Iran, and more about how the American decision is translating into more expensive loans and a weaker national currency. In the same Folha article, Nomad strategist Rebecca Nossig links market nervousness to the combination of geopolitical and inflationary risks: expensive oil reduces appetite for emerging-market assets while simultaneously pushing up yields on U.S. Treasuries. For Brazil, this is an extremely sensitive combination: the export benefit from commodities may accrue to large oil companies, while the costs transmitted through the exchange rate and interest rates spread across the entire economy.

In South Korea, the same crisis is interpreted far more darkly. The country depends on imported energy resources and has an industrial model for which a spike in oil prices is not a bonus but a direct blow to production costs, transportation and consumer prices. A Kiwoom Securities review emphasizes that nearly 69% of South Korea’s crude-oil imports come from the Middle East; consequently, the blockade—or threat of a blockade—of the Strait of Hormuz automatically becomes a risk-off factor for the Korean market. This figure explains why Seoul views the American military campaign not only as a U.S. ally, but also as a vulnerable Asian economy forced to pay for instability in a vital maritime corridor.

Korean discussions also reveal irritation that American policy is simultaneously creating an energy shock and driving up global yields. A Korean market review describes the situation after Brent exceeded $100 as a moment when even the White House acknowledged the risk of not merely a brief spike, but several months of expensive oil. For Seoul, this means a double threat: rising energy-import costs and pressure from high U.S. yields, which could draw capital away from Asian markets. Brazil and South Korea agree on the diagnosis—the United States’ foreign policy has become a market factor on a global scale—but differ in the consequences: Brazil receives commodity revenues, while Korea receives the energy bill.

The second overarching theme is declining confidence in U.S. financial management. In Brazil, this is discussed particularly openly. Folha reports that the U.S. Treasury’s attempt to buy back part of the national debt fell short of market expectations and failed to halt the rise in yields. Amundi investment director Vincent Mortier called the scale of the intervention insufficient to resolve the broader problem, while Bank of America strategist Mark Cabana saw the authorities’ attempt to act with minimal means as carrying the risk of sending a counterproductive signal to markets. In Brazil’s reading, this is no longer a technical Wall Street story: when U.S. debt policy appears nervous, emerging markets immediately pay a risk premium.

South Korean financial commentators view this in a similar way, but with a different concern. They are worried not only about the cost of money, but also about the divergence between Washington’s political logic and the logic of independent monetary policy. In a weekly Korean gold-market analysis, rising U.S. yields are described as the main factor suppressing demand for gold even amid war and expensive oil. The significance of this observation extends beyond gold itself: the market has stopped automatically treating geopolitics as a reason to move into traditional safe-haven assets because the yield on U.S. debt has itself become too high and too important a variable. For Korean investors, this means living in a world where the United States is simultaneously a military ally, the center of the financial system and a source of its instability.

The third—and the main one for Ukraine—line of debate concerns the return of American diplomacy to negotiations with Moscow and Kyiv. Ukrainian audiences greeted Steve Witkoff and Jared Kushner’s trips to Moscow on September 5 and Kyiv on September 6 without their previous automatic optimism. After the meeting, President Volodymyr Zelenskyy said Ukraine was counting on a “winter package” including air defense, energy support and American LNG, and warned that without a strong position on the battlefield, there could be only ultimatums rather than genuine diplomacy. These points were compiled by the Center for Countering Disinformation under Ukraine’s National Security and Defense Council.

This is where the Ukrainian perspective differs most sharply from the Brazilian and South Korean ones. For Brazil and South Korea, Washington creates risk primarily through oil, the dollar and trade barriers; for Ukraine, American inconsistency could determine the country’s physical security during the winter. In a Slovo i Dilo column, analyst Oleksandr Radchuk sees Witkoff and Kushner’s approach as a “transactional” model in which negotiations are built around what Russia, Ukraine and the world will receive. But this is precisely where the danger lies for Ukrainian public debate: under such a framework, Russia’s “benefit” may mean not a compromise, but a reward for seizing territory.

Ukrainians are not rejecting American mediation—on the contrary, Kyiv officially thanks the United States for resuming the negotiating process. However, trust depends on testing diplomatic statements against military reality. After the visits by American representatives, Russia continued its massive attacks, strengthening skepticism about hopes for a quick peace. Hromadske separately recorded concern over Donald Trump’s statements about plans to demand that Europe pay for American aid to Ukraine provided under Joe Biden. From the Ukrainian perspective, this is not merely a budget dispute: allied support is increasingly turning into a bargaining chip.

Against this backdrop, the South Korean semiconductor story is particularly revealing. On September 4, Industry Minister Kim Jung-kwan said Seoul continued discussing possible tariffs on chips with the United States, based on Washington’s promised principle of “no less favorable treatment” than that offered to competitors. In a Yonhap report, the minister emphasized that Korea expected the spirit of previous agreements to be respected. This is a diplomatically cautious formula, but behind it lies strong local anxiety: America, on which Seoul depends for security and technology, could simultaneously become a regulatory risk for South Korean exports.

This Korean tone may be the most important unexpected conclusion from the current reactions. In Seoul, the United States is viewed neither as an unequivocal protector nor as an unequivocal threat. Washington is an indispensable partner that, in the same month, can promise fair access for Korean chips, seek Korean investment and create an oil shock undermining the competitiveness of Korean industry. In Brazil, similar ambivalence appears in financial form: expensive oil is beneficial, but the American war and U.S. government debt make that benefit unreliable. In Ukraine, it takes on a tragic dimension: the United States remains a critically important partner, but its desire for a quick deal raises fears that the price of “peace” will be demanded from the victim of aggression.

The international view of America today can be reduced to one formula: the United States still possesses an exceptional ability to set the agenda, but fewer and fewer countries are confident that American power automatically brings them stability. South Korea fears the bill for oil and tariffs, Brazil fears the bill for the dollar and Treasury yields, and Ukraine fears the bill for a diplomatic compromise. In all three cases, the local response is not simply anti-American. Rather, it points to a new pragmatism: an alliance, a market relationship and mediation with the United States are now viewed not as guarantees, but as relationships in which the cost of dependence must be assessed constantly.

❮ ❯

America as a Source of Risk and Leverage: Views from Russia, Saudi Arabia and South Korea

In mid-September 2026, the United States is simultaneously seen in Russia, Saudi Arabia and South Korea as an indispensable power and the main generator of uncertainty. At the center of the debate are the American campaign of pressure against Iran and its consequences for the Strait of Hormuz, oil and the security of U.S. allies; Washington’s attempt to once again become a mediator in a settlement of the Ukraine conflict; and the transformation of access to the American market and industrial investment into an instrument of foreign policy. The overall conclusion of local commentators is highly pragmatic: the United States can still change the rules of the game, but the cost of that ability is increasingly being shifted onto partners, neighbors and the global economy.

The most acute issue is the U.S.-Iran confrontation. In the Saudi press, it is viewed not as a distant struggle between two powers, but as a direct test of the entire Persian Gulf security architecture. A columnist for the Saudi newspaper Okaz describes Washington’s actions as an attempt to wage war against Iran “using its own tools”: rather than repeating America’s past ground interventions, the goal is to raise the military and economic price Tehran pays for regional influence. In this interpretation, Houthi strikes and the attack on Saudi energy infrastructure are not peripheral episodes, but a way for Iran to shift the costs of the conflict onto its neighbors and global markets. (okaz.com.sa)

At the same time, the Saudi view is not limited to waiting for American protection. In an Al-Jazirah newspaper article, Riyadh’s role is framed differently: the kingdom should use its relations with both the West and regional players to prevent the crisis from escalating into a major war. An important local argument is that mediation is not a sign of weakness before Washington, but an independent resource for a power whose first priority is to protect its own modernization, energy infrastructure and Gulf stability. American involvement is necessary here, but it must not turn Saudi Arabia into an arena for someone else’s conflict. (al-jazirah.com)

Russia’s reaction to the same war is noticeably colder and, at the same time, more cynical in economic terms. Russian media note that the resumption of mutual U.S.-Iranian strikes has heightened tensions in the oil market. For Russia, this means both a short-term price benefit and the risk of even greater instability in global trade. In an Argumenty i Fakty article, the American strategy is described through the logic of “tanker for tanker”: military pressure on Iran immediately rebounds on Washington in the form of pressure on the global economy. Saudi authors make a similar point, but with a different political tone: Okaz warns that America’s “economic weapon” could turn Iran’s isolation not into a short route to a deal, but into a prolonged war of attrition, with energy consumers around the world paying the price. (aif.ru)

The divergence between Moscow and Riyadh is particularly apparent here. For Russian commentators, the American campaign is further evidence of the limitations of unilateral pressure: Washington may inflict damage, but it is not necessarily capable of creating a stable political order after using force. For Saudi Arabia, the question is much more concrete: even a weakened Iran is not an unqualified benefit if this is accompanied by attacks on oil pipelines, the risk of disruptions to shipping and increasing regional militarization. Saudi media therefore speak far more often not of a U.S. “victory,” but of the need to control escalation. It is no coincidence that oil remains above the psychologically important level of $100 per barrel amid fears of further supply disruptions: for the kingdom, this is both a source of revenue and an indicator of a dangerous political temperature. (okaz.com.sa)

In South Korea, the consequences of U.S. policy in the Middle East are discussed primarily through two lenses—energy security and alliance commitments. An editorial in Hankyoreh urges Seoul to treat American pressure over the possible deployment of forces to protect shipping in the Strait of Hormuz with extreme caution. The editorial’s logic is straightforward: freedom of maritime trade is critically important to export-oriented Korea, but service members must not become the price of the alliance, especially while the Korean Peninsula faces its own deterrence risks involving North Korea. This is not anti-Americanism, but a demand for a more equal distribution of risks: helping an ally should not automatically mean participating in every one of its operations. (hani.co.kr)

The same Korean caution is evident in the dispute over semiconductor tariffs. U.S. authorities are considering new targeted duties and are directly linking preferential treatment to the establishment of production in the United States. The South Korean administration has publicly responded that the parameters have not yet been finalized, but has promised to ensure that national companies are not placed at a disadvantage compared with their competitors, as reported by Hankyoreh. Industry Minister Kim Jung-kwan put the position even more bluntly: negotiations must be conducted in the spirit of the principle of “no less favorable treatment” for Korean chips, Yonhap reported. (hani.co.kr)

This is particularly painful for South Korea because semiconductor exports have become the main engine of the current recovery: during the first ten days of September, their value reached record levels, while shipments to the United States rose sharply. Seoul therefore sees American tariff policy not as an ordinary trade dispute, but as an attempt to turn the technology alliance into a system of conditional market access: invest in American plants, adapt supply chains to Washington’s requirements—and only then receive predictable trade rules. Even the government’s economic assessment acknowledges that the war in the Middle East is increasing uncertainty despite strong export figures. (hani.co.kr)

Russia is watching another manifestation of the same American unpredictability—the diplomacy surrounding Ukraine. Following Donald Trump’s telephone conversation with Vladimir Putin on September 9, Moscow heard the U.S. president describe it as a “great conversation” and express readiness to discuss a trilateral format involving Volodymyr Zelenskyy. Yet optimism in Russian discourse remains restrained: Foreign Ministry spokeswoman Maria Zakharova said that the conditions for substantive dialogue on strategic stability had not yet taken shape, recalling that the previous format had been interrupted by the American side. Vedomosti reported on her remarks. (interfax.ru)

It is characteristic that Russian commentators tend to see the White House’s renewed activity not so much as a fundamental turn toward peacemaking, but as Washington’s search for a manageable outcome. A Vzglyad commentary says that the Trump administration has already returned to the Ukraine track several times after pauses caused by other crises, including the conflict with Iran. In other words, from Moscow’s perspective, Ukraine is one of several dossiers that the United States manages depending on domestic political conditions and its external workload. In Saudi Arabia and South Korea, this issue is read differently, but the conclusion is similar: American priorities can shift quickly, and partners must build contingency strategies in advance. (m.vz.ru)

The most unexpected common feature of the three reactions is not a dispute over whether the United States is powerful, but over how costly American power is for those around it. Russia speaks of the failure of pressure without equal dialogue; Saudi Arabia warns that regional security could be sacrificed in the struggle against Iran; South Korea argues that a military alliance and trade partnership must not turn into unconditional acceptance of America’s costs and demands. In each of these countries, Washington remains a key center of decision-making. But America’s image is changing: it is less and less a guarantor of unchanging rules and increasingly a state that offers protection, demands participation and leaves its allies with the bill for the consequences of its own strategy.

❮ ❯

America as a Source of Risk That Cannot Be Escaped

As of September 12, 2026, discussions in Turkey, France, and South Korea portray the United States less as a distant superpower than as an immediate factor in national security, inflation, and political choice. The main shared theme is the protracted US-Iranian confrontation over the Strait of Hormuz. But local commentators see a broader picture behind it: Donald Trump’s administration is simultaneously demanding money, military involvement, and political loyalty from its allies—doing so at a moment when it is increasingly guided by domestic electoral logic ahead of the US midterm elections on November 3. (lemonde.fr)

Hormuz is where the differences between the three countries are especially visible. In France, the conflict is viewed primarily as evidence of Washington’s strategic failure in military policy: the operation launched by the United States and Israel on February 28 has led neither to a lasting settlement nor to safe shipping, but has instead turned into a chronic crisis with an energy cost for Europe. Experts at the French Institute of International Relations, in an Ifri analysis, explicitly raise the issue not of military victory but of the war’s consequences for French and European inflation, budgets, and economic policy. The French reaction therefore goes beyond moral condemnation of Tehran or Washington: Paris is concerned that the United States can launch a campaign but cannot offer a political way out of it. (ifri.org)

In Turkey, the same conflict is viewed much closer to home. Turkish authors speak of an economic “Hormuz trap”: rising oil prices are intensifying already severe inflationary pressure, widening the current-account deficit, and making the country vulnerable to disruptions in trade routes. An analysis by Deutsche Welle Türkçe cites an estimate by the Central Bank of Turkey that every additional $10 increase in the price of oil raises the current-account deficit by approximately $2.6 billion over the following twelve months. For Ankara, the American war with Iran is not an abstract struggle for freedom of navigation, but a risk of having a destabilized Iran at its borders, along with migration and border pressure—and a new surge in prices at home. (amp.dw.com)

The South Korean debate links maritime security to allied coercion even more directly. Seoul is considering options for a military contribution to protecting shipping in the Strait of Hormuz, but public and expert concern stems from the possibility that participation in the American initiative could turn South Korea from a trade-dependent party into a participant in the war. The Hankyoreh newspaper noted that the issue of a Korean military contribution was being discussed precisely as the United States and Iran exchanged a new round of strikes. Korean media also reported Tehran’s warning that Seoul’s intervention would be regarded as direct participation in the conflict. Thus, in Korea, freedom of navigation is an essential economic necessity, but sending troops is a politically toxic step. (hani.co.kr)

In all three societies, there is clear distrust of the American formula of “limited” or “managed” escalation. Turkish researcher Bilgehan Alagöz, in an Anadolu Ajansı article, describes the current phase as a controlled intensification of pressure through limited operations, sanctions, and diplomacy. But it is precisely the word “controlled” that prompts skepticism: in Paris, observers see a prolonged conflict with no diplomatic horizon; in Ankara, the possibility that a mediator will gradually be turned into a party to the conflict; and in Seoul, the risk that allied solidarity will be measured not by declarations but by a willingness to assume military dangers. (aa.com.tr)

The second common theme is the transformation of American alliances into a system of deals with a high entry price. This is especially visible in South Korea because of the dispute over the promised $200 billion in investment in the United States. An investigation by Hankyoreh claims that Washington abandoned one of the safeguards intended to reduce the risk of losses for Korean capital: instead of a consolidated approach to investment returns, the American side insisted on allocating profits and losses on a project-by-project basis. In the Korean reading, this is not simply a commercial dispute but an example of an alliance becoming an asymmetric financial obligation. The authors also raise a more uncomfortable question: is the White House seeking to demonstrate an inflow of Korean money into the United States before the November elections? (hani.co.kr)

Turkish commentators view relations with the United States through a similar, albeit military, lens. Following President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan’s meeting with US Ambassador and Special Representative Tom Barrack on September 9, Barrack declared that bilateral relations were at their best point in history. Yet journalist Murat Yetkin, in a Yetkin Report column, advises against taking the formula at face value: he recalls the continuing consequences of Turkey’s purchase of the S-400, its exclusion from the F-35 program, and problems involving US restrictions affecting the engine of Turkey’s KAAN fighter jet. The Turkish response is paradoxical: Ankara values direct access to Trump and the ability to bargain, but does not regard warm rhetoric as proof of an equal partnership. (yetkinreport.com)

In France, a similar sentiment is expressed through the language of “strategic autonomy.” French analysts increasingly describe Trump’s policy as a combination of pressure on allies, an unstable commitment to NATO, and disregard for international law. A commentary by Ifri on divisions within NATO emphasizes that Europeans are being assigned individual responsibilities while key American command positions in the alliance remain in Washington’s hands. In other words, Europe is being offered more responsibility without commensurate control. The French distinctive feature is that they do not want simply to tolerate this dependence: they are trying to turn it into an argument for independent European defense and technological capabilities. (ifri.org)

A third theme is particularly important and unites local assessments: US foreign policy is increasingly perceived as an extension of America’s domestic campaign. A French Ifri overview lists several of Trump’s fronts—Iran, Canada, Venezuela, and Ukraine—and sees not a coherent strategy but the simultaneous activation of multiple levers of pressure. Turkish analysts likewise link the escalation around Iran to Washington’s electoral calculations, while South Korean publications suspect that investment and military demands on partners are being adapted to the American political calendar. (ifri.org)

This leads to the most unexpected common conclusion of the Turkish, French, and Korean debates. In none of these countries is the United States viewed simply as an adversary that can be discarded: France needs American power in NATO, Turkey needs access to Western technology and political dialogue, and South Korea needs American deterrence against North Korea and protection for its maritime communications. But America’s image is changing. It is no longer a guarantor of order, but a powerful, necessary, and increasingly unpredictable partner capable of shifting the cost of its own crises onto its allies. That is why Paris speaks of autonomy, Ankara of active neutrality and maneuvering, and Seoul of caution about military involvement: different answers to the same problem—how to remain close to America without becoming hostage to its decisions.

❮ ❯

The United States in the News: Security, Health and Fragmented Responses

In today’s roundup, the United States is presented primarily through the lens of security and public health. Turkish materials address the long-term consequences of the September 11 attacks, report a major cyclospora outbreak in the United States, and highlight Washington–Vietnam cooperation in healthcare. The other publications mention the United States only indirectly and focus on commercial, domestic political, or unrelated topics. The result is a fragmented picture without a single international response to a specific event. The review is based on materials from Brookings (South Africa) and Facebook publications (Turkey).

Al-Qaeda and 9/11: The American View of the Threat

The Brookings Institution article examines the place the September 11, 2001 terrorist attacks occupied in Al-Qaeda’s strategy and propaganda, as well as the consequences of the attacks for the United States. It is an American analytical text, not a response from South Africa: it does not present the views of South African politicians, experts, civil society organizations, or the local press.

The author regards 9/11 as Al-Qaeda’s primary symbolic capital. For the group, the anniversary of the attacks was not merely a date for statements and propaganda messages, but also a possible occasion for new large-scale operations capable of once again attracting the attention of the entire world. The organization sought to demonstrate that it was capable of harming the United States and its allies by exploiting the psychological impact of mass terrorism.

The text mentions terrorist plots thwarted in 2006 and 2009. The first involved alleged attacks on transatlantic flights, while the second targeted the New York subway. These episodes are cited as evidence that the threat did not disappear after the initial destruction of Al-Qaeda’s infrastructure in Afghanistan. In addition, according to the information presented in the article, Osama bin Laden discussed the possibility of an attack timed to coincide with the tenth anniversary of 9/11 before his death.

The American perspective is particularly evident in the assessment of the attacks’ consequences. The author links the significance of 9/11 not only to the number of deaths and the social shock, but also to its far-reaching financial and geopolitical consequences. These included direct economic damage, a sharp expansion of domestic security spending, and the lengthy U.S. wars in Afghanistan and Iraq. In this context, the attacks are viewed as an example of how a relatively inexpensive terrorist operation can provoke an extraordinarily costly response from the world’s leading power.

This is precisely the meaning conveyed by describing 9/11 as one of the most “cost-effective global turning points”: the terrorists’ expenses were incomparable with Washington’s subsequent budgetary expenditures, human losses, military campaigns, and restructuring of the international security system. For the United States, it became a vivid demonstration of an asymmetric threat in which a small network of militants could influence global politics and the economy for decades to come.

South Africa is effectively absent from the Brookings article. It does not examine risks to the country, its counterterrorism policy, or the South African government’s position on the American wars and the global campaign against terrorism. Nor does the article compare the threat posed by Al-Qaeda with South Africa’s historical experience, including the legacy of apartheid, regional conflicts, migration, social inequality, or domestic crime.

At the same time, international security issues may have indirect significance for South Africa. The country has major transport hubs, a developed financial sector, and close trade, tourism, and air links with the outside world. Disruptions to global transport routes, increased risks to civil aviation, and disruptions to international trade could also affect the South African economy. However, the text itself does not draw these conclusions, so it would be inaccurate to present it as an independent “South African response.”

Ultimately, this is an American analysis of why 9/11 remained for Al-Qaeda at once an ideological reference point, a propaganda symbol, and a model of the desired impact on its adversary. Its main subject is the vulnerability of the United States to terrorist attacks and the cost of its response, not how this threat is perceived in South Africa or on the African continent.

The European Crisis and the Rise of Right-Wing Populism Through the Eyes of a Turkish Author

A column by Turkish intellectual Süleyman Seyfi Öğün, published via the Facebook link provided, focuses not on Turkey, the PKK, or the “new London equation” mentioned in the headline, but on Europe’s political crisis. The starting point for his discussion was the German elections and the success of the Alternative for Germany (AfD) at the local level in Saxony-Anhalt.

The author urges readers not to turn a single regional result into a definitive diagnosis of Germany as a whole. In his view, the elections in Berlin will be a more revealing test for the AfD and the German political landscape. However, Öğün believes that the broader trend is already visible across Europe: traditional centrist parties are losing support while right-wing populist movements are gaining strength.

He places in this category France’s National Rally, the Dutch right, Britain’s Reform UK, Italy’s Brothers of Italy, Spain’s Vox, and the AfD. The author explains their growth not as Europe’s sudden return to historical Nazism or fascism, but as the result of a deep crisis in the political and socioeconomic model that emerged after the end of the Cold War.

Öğün warns against mechanically labeling contemporary right-wing parties as neo-Nazi or neo-fascist. In his assessment, they differ from historical fascist movements: they lack the previous level of organizational discipline, a single absolute leadership hierarchy, and a coherent ideological structure. He therefore proposes referring to them primarily as “right-wing populist parties.”

As an example, he cites Italian Prime Minister Giorgia Meloni. The author acknowledges the severity of her conservative and anti-immigration rhetoric but considers her practical policies pragmatic. In his interpretation, Meloni is not trying to destroy Italy’s state system in the way Donald Trump, in his view, is acting in the United States.

A central place in Öğün’s argument is occupied by criticism of the neoliberal era. He links the success of the right to the fact that the economic policies of recent decades primarily served elite interests, while center-left and social-democratic forces ceased to act as consistent defenders of the welfare state. Instead of resisting the dismantling of the former social model, the author argues, they “cooperated” with that process.

He is particularly harsh in his assessment of the British experience. In his interpretation, Tony Blair and Gordon Brown did not offer an alternative to Thatcherism but effectively competed with Margaret Thatcher in dismantling the social mechanisms created in postwar Europe. In the author’s view, this policy severed traditional parties’ ties with broad sections of society and created space for right-wing populism.

The Turkish perspective on the situation is reflected in skepticism toward Europe’s self-image. Europe was long portrayed as the bearer of a more humane model of capitalism—the “European Dream”—in contrast to American individualism and harsh market forces. But, Öğün argues, this image is increasingly diverging from reality. After 2010, European economies experienced severe shocks, while the previous benefits of trade and industrial cooperation with China began to disappear.

In this logic, right-wing populism is not the root cause of Europe’s instability but a symptom of the failure of the former centrist consensus. Voters disillusioned by declining living standards, rising inequality, weakened social protection, and the inability of traditional parties to offer a convincing way out of the crisis are turning to forces that promise to restore control, security, and national sovereignty.

The article also contains a politicized assessment of Europe’s relations with Russia. The author argues that left-wing, green, social-democratic, and Christian-democratic parties, confronted with economic difficulties, “found an enemy” in Russia. In his view, European elites are attempting to overcome the crisis by militarizing the economy and strengthening their alliance with the United Kingdom, but this course was chosen hastily and without sufficient consideration of the consequences.

From this perspective, it is precisely the mistakes of the forces that most frequently warn of the far-right threat that are creating conditions for the further strengthening of the AfD, National Rally, Reform UK, Brothers of Italy, and other similar parties. The rise of right-wing populism is presented as the result not of fascist nostalgia, but of the loss of trust in a political class that failed to protect Europe’s social model.

Öğün’s text is not a detailed report on the German elections: it contains almost no verifiable electoral figures, party platforms, or reactions from German politicians. It is a political commentary in which the European crisis is viewed through criticism of neoliberalism, centrist elites, and the EU’s claims to moral leadership.

Turkey is not a direct subject of discussion in the column. However, the framing itself is characteristic of Turkey’s conservative intellectual debate: Europe is presented not as a model of stable democracy and social justice, but as a region experiencing the weakening of its former model, a crisis of trust, and the rise of political forces that have emerged from this breakdown.

❮ ❯

America as a Factor of Uncertainty: Why Kyiv, Berlin and Brasília Increasingly Talk Not of Alliance, but...

Three seemingly unrelated stories converged this week in Ukrainian, German and Brazilian discussions of the United States: Washington’s attempt to restart negotiations on the Russian-Ukrainian war, Donald Trump’s conspicuous sympathy for the success of the Alternative for Germany (AfD), and a new escalation of the trade conflict with Brazil. Yet local reactions share one idea: America remains too important a power to ignore, and at the same time too unpredictable to rely on unconditionally. In Kyiv, this means anxiety over a peace imposed for the sake of a quick result; in Berlin, irritation at an ally’s interference in a domestic political dispute; and in Brasília, the conviction that Washington has turned tariffs into a means of pressuring sovereign policy.

For Ukraine, the main American story was the September 5–6 visits by special envoy Steve Witkoff and Jared Kushner to Moscow and Kyiv. The very fact that both Trump representatives made their first trip to the Ukrainian capital was seen as a necessary signal: Kyiv had long sought to ensure that American mediators heard the Ukrainian side not only after talks in the Kremlin. However, the visit did not spark euphoria. An analysis by Ukrainska Pravda emphasizes that the envoys brought several new ideas but offered no breakthrough on the key issues—territory and security guarantees. Ukrainians interpret their desire to see results before winter in two ways: as an attempt to prevent another campaign of strikes against the energy system, but also as a risk that the U.S. political calendar may prove more important than the conditions for a genuine peace. (pravda.com.ua)

The Ukrainian criticism is particularly directed not at U.S. mediation itself, but at its style. An analysis by Yevropeiska Pravda, examining the Moscow and Kyiv stages of the trip, recalled that Witkoff’s previous contacts with the Kremlin had prompted distrust because of their secrecy and his excessive willingness to accept the Russian framework for negotiations. At the same time, Ukraine’s position is pragmatic: resuming a trilateral format involving the United States, Ukraine and Russia is considered useful as long as it does not replace Ukraine’s own agency. Political scientist Volodymyr Dubovyk put the conclusion even more bluntly in a comment to Hromadske Radio: strategically, Ukraine and Europe should invest in their own military and financial capabilities. This is not a rejection of America, but a conclusion prompted by its volatility. (eurointegration.com.ua)

In Germany, the anxiety stems from a different source but follows a similar logic. After the AfD’s victory in the state elections in Saxony-Anhalt, Trump publicly welcomed the success of the “populist party” on September 9, linked it to migration policy and ended his post with the slogan “MGGA”—an obvious variation on “Make Germany Great Again.” To Germany’s political community, this sounded not merely like an eccentric post by a foreign president, but like an attempt to import America’s culture war into the German electoral process. A T-Online commentary expressed the core of the debate with particular clarity: Germany should defend its democratic self-determination regardless of whether outside influence comes from Russia or the United States. (t-online.de)

This marks a notable shift in Germany’s view of transatlantic relations. Washington is no longer automatically perceived as an external guarantor of the liberal order; some German commentators now see today’s America as a participant in Europe’s polarization. Even Berlin’s official reaction was cautious: the issue of Trump’s remarks was raised directly at a government briefing, but the cabinet did not escalate the matter into a public confrontation. This restraint reflects Germany’s dilemma: it needs cooperation with the United States on security, but at the same time cannot allow a foreign leader to legitimize forces that German institutions regard as a threat to the constitutional order. (bundesregierung.de)

Brazil’s reaction to America is even more sharply framed in the language of sovereignty. The discussion there concerns additional 25 percent tariffs on a significant share of imports from Brazil, imposed after a Section 301 investigation. In Brasília, the conflict is interpreted not as an ordinary dispute over market access, but as political and diplomatic coercion. An article by the Observatório de Política Externa e da Inserção Internacional do Brasil draws a telling conclusion: the tariff functions as a diplomatic sanction disguised in technical trade terminology. The authors link the current dispute to a broader American attempt to use economic leverage to influence Brazil’s domestic institutions and foreign-policy choices. (opeb.org)

The verbal exchange intensified this perception. Marco Rubio said that Lula’s government had negotiated “not in good faith,” while Brazil’s Foreign Minister Mauro Vieira called the tariffs irrational and out of touch with reality, pointing to the longstanding U.S. trade surplus with Brazil. In a Le Monde Diplomatique Brasil column, this exchange is presented as a clash between two models of inter-American relations: Washington views the region through the lens of political loyalty and strategic alignment, while Brasília emphasizes equality, a multilateral approach and the right not to choose sides. Even the more moderate Brazilian editorial line is calling not for a break in negotiations, but for market diversification: Jornal do Comércio describes the tariff crisis as a lesson about the risks of excessive dependence on a single partner. (diplomatique.org.br)

This is where the common thread linking Kyiv, Berlin and Brasília becomes visible. Ukraine wants American power, but not American haste; Germany needs American partnership, but rejects American involvement in its partisan struggles; Brazil is prepared to trade with the United States, but will not accept political conditions as the price of access to its market. Everywhere, the United States is increasingly perceived not merely as a country making decisions at home, but as a power capable of reshaping other countries’ negotiations, elections and economic calculations. The local response is also becoming similar: not a break with America, but a search for greater autonomy—military in Ukraine, democratic in Germany, and trade and geopolitical in Brazil.

❮ ❯

America’s Endless Wars: How Japan, Russia and India Read the New Uncertainty

By September 11, 2026, the United States had become, for Japanese, Russian and Indian observers, not merely an external power but the main source of strategic uncertainty. Attention to several American storylines at once—the protracted war with Iran, the White House’s new attempt to move Ukraine negotiations forward, and trade pressure on India—has united local debates around one question: can Washington still impose rules on the world if it increasingly changes its goals, timelines and instruments itself? (kommersant.ru)

The most painful issue for Japan has been the American military campaign against Iran and its consequences for the Strait of Hormuz. In Tokyo, this is seen not as a distant Middle Eastern crisis but as a direct blow to the cost of living, energy security and the United States’ ability to deter China in the Pacific. Nobuhide Kiuchi, an economist at the Nomura Research Institute, calculated in his analysis that keeping oil prices near $90 per barrel could add 0.30 percentage points to Japanese inflation and increase the annual burden on households by approximately ¥13,000. From the Japanese perspective, this is particularly alarming: the country depends on seaborne fuel imports, meaning that the US confrontation with Iran literally turns into Japanese bills for gasoline, electricity and food. (nri.com)

Yet Japan’s deeper concern is linked to the geography of American resources. In an article by Nippon.com, the war is described as a source of “distrust in the United States” that Washington is spreading itself: an operation initially promised to be brief has become a six-month confrontation, while American aircraft carriers and air-defense assets remain tied down in the Middle East for longer and longer. Japanese authors see a risk here for Taiwan and the East China Sea: if the United States is expending ammunition and political attention in the Strait of Hormuz, its Indo-Pacific deterrence becomes less convincing. This is a distinctly Japanese perspective: the issue is not only whether the United States is right in its conflict with Iran, but whether it is weakening its own alliance with Japan by trying to manage too many crises at once. (nippon.com)

In Russia, the same war is interpreted differently—as proof that American power remains destructive but is no longer strategically coherent. In a column for Kommersant, Middle East expert Farhad Ibragimov draws attention to Donald Trump’s contradictory rhetoric: the president sometimes promises that the confrontation will end soon, then says he is in no hurry to negotiate. For Russia’s expert community, this inconsistency is not merely a communication error but a symptom of a Washington policy in which loud promises increasingly diverge from military and diplomatic reality. Against this backdrop, reports that the United States has destroyed Iranian tankers and that further escalation is possible are viewed in Moscow primarily through the oil market: prolonged disruptions in the Strait of Hormuz could keep oil prices high and thereby indirectly improve Russia’s foreign economic position. (kommersant.ru)

India views Hormuz even more pragmatically. For New Delhi, the American campaign is simultaneously a risk to energy supplies, shipping and Indian citizens in the region. India’s reaction therefore does not boil down to moral support for either side: its main instinct is to avoid being drawn into bloc politics and preserve room for diplomacy. India applies the same approach to Ukraine. Speaking in Warsaw, Foreign Minister Subrahmanyam Jaishankar stressed that ending the war depended not on decisions concerning purchases of oil, metals or fertilizers but on negotiations; his words were widely quoted by Amar Ujala. Behind this formula lies a direct dispute with American pressure on countries that continue trading with Russia: New Delhi refuses to accept that economic ties with Moscow make India complicit in the war. (amarujala.com)

US diplomacy over Ukraine has become the second theme shared by all three countries. Following visits by Steve Witkoff and Jared Kushner to Moscow and Kyiv on September 5–6, and Vladimir Putin’s subsequent conversation with Trump, Russian commentators began discussing the return of a direct US-Russian channel. In an article by Vedomosti, Pavel Koshkin of the ISKRAN Institute sees “the political will for dialogue” in these developments, but adds a qualification: a willingness to talk does not yet mean a willingness to make concessions. Another expert, Vladimir Pavlov of MGIMO University, links Washington’s renewed activity both to the Iranian campaign and to the approaching US midterm elections. The Russian interpretation is therefore ambivalent: contacts with Trump are welcomed as recognition that Moscow’s interests must be taken into account, but the White House itself is viewed as a partner seeking a rapid, demonstrative result. (vedomosti.ru)

Fyodor Lukyanov, chairman of the Presidium of the Council on Foreign and Defense Policy and editor-in-chief of Russia in Global Affairs, formulates the problem more starkly. In a comment for the Russian International Affairs Council, he acknowledges that the Trump administration is the only Western actor simultaneously trying to change the situation and possessing substantial leverage over it. But this praise itself contains Russian skepticism: the peace process is stalled not because mediators are lacking, but because the parties’ goals are incompatible—and because of the question of how far the United States is prepared to pressure Kyiv and Europe. (russiancouncil.ru)

In Japan, American mediation provokes an almost opposite concern: could Washington too easily turn a Ukrainian territorial concession into the price of its own diplomatic success? Kenro Nagoshi, a professor at Takushoku University, warns in an analysis for President Online that formulas such as a ceasefire, a “buffer zone” or international administration could effectively create conditions for the entire Donbas to come under Russian control. For Japanese audiences, this is not an abstract European issue. Japan itself has a territorial dispute with Russia, and so a compromise cementing a change of borders by force looks like a dangerous precedent for East Asia. (president.jp)

The Indian interpretation is particularly interesting because of its attempt to position India not as a US ally or Russia’s advocate, but as a potential mediator. India’s Foreign Ministry reiterates that a solution “will not come from the battlefield,” while New Delhi maintains constant contact with both Moscow and Kyiv; Amar Ujala reported this position. Against the backdrop of Witkoff and Kushner’s missions, India is effectively offering a different language: not a deal dictated by a single great power, but sustained diplomacy in which Global South countries have their own voice. (amarujala.com)

The third line—trade—shows how quickly the US-India strategic partnership is turning into a bargaining process over sovereignty. Indian Trade Minister Piyush Goyal said that the final parameters of the bilateral agreement would not be announced until Indian goods received a more favorable tariff regime in the United States than competing products; Aaj Tak reported. Indian analysts increasingly describe American tariffs not as a technical trade measure but as an instrument of geopolitical coercion. In an editorial analysis by AFEIAS, the additional 10 percent US tariff is explained less as an effort to combat forced labor than as an attempt to accelerate a trade deal favorable to Washington. (aajtak.in)

On this point, Japan’s experience serves as an important contrast for India. Tokyo has already secured confirmation that the new American measures should not exceed the agreed tariff level for Japan, but the price of such predictability is a far-reaching economic tie to the United States, including major investment commitments. Indians are watching this without much desire to repeat the model: access to the US market is valuable, but it should not be bought by abandoning their own trade, energy or Russia policy. (oanda.jp)

Thus, an unexpected common portrait of America is emerging in all three countries. Russia sees a power with which it must bargain directly and whose desire for a quick deal can be exploited. Japan sees an indispensable ally whose preoccupation with the Middle East may weaken security in Asia. India sees a necessary market, a technology partner and a source of pressure that must not be allowed to determine its foreign-policy choices. The differences between these reactions matter: none of the three countries considers the United States insignificant. But fewer and fewer people in Tokyo, Moscow and New Delhi are convinced that America can consistently wield the power it still possesses.

❮ ❯

America as a Source of Risk: Why Berlin, Paris and Seoul Trust Predictability Less and Less

In Germany, France and South Korea, discussion of the United States in early September 2026 no longer centers on the familiar question of “how strong is the American ally?” The main question sounds different: how can countries protect themselves from the consequences of Washington’s decisions while remaining its allies? Three issues stand out in local debates: the protracted US war with Iran and pressure on partners, the trade policy of Donald Trump’s administration, and domestic American instability ahead of the November 3 midterm elections. They share one underlying perception: the United States still possesses enormous capabilities, but is becoming increasingly unable to turn them into a stable and comprehensible strategy.

The war with Iran has become the sharpest symbol of this anxiety. German commentators view it above all as evidence of America’s strategic exhaustion. In a Tagesschau commentary, the war is described as a process in which Trump has “squandered American power”: the issue is not simply a military campaign without a clear endpoint, but the erosion of the US ability to persuade allies, deter adversaries and set the rules. RND columnist Can Merey puts it even more bluntly in his analysis: Washington still has levers of pressure, but no political plan linking military strikes to an achievable outcome. What is notable about the German criticism is not pacifism as such, but fear of American improvisation: Europe remains dependent on US military infrastructure, yet cannot be certain that the White House is capable of calculating the cost of its next escalation. (tagesschau.de)

The French reaction to the same problem is framed in the language of “strategic autonomy,” but that term has now become far less abstract. French public opinion still does not favor breaking with NATO or the United States; on the contrary, it is calling for protection through functioning alliances. Yet trust in the US as the guarantor of that protection has sharply weakened. Hamza Khraoui and Jean-Daniel Lévy note in a Project Syndicate France column that security has become the French public’s top foreign-policy priority, while trust in America has “collapsed.” Their conclusion is important: the French are not choosing isolation; they want Europe, NATO and international law to be judged not by lofty principles, but by their ability to provide real security. This is the French response to the US war with Iran: not anti-Americanism, but a demand that Paris and the EU possess enough political weight of their own not to remain bystanders during American crises. (project-syndicate.fr)

In South Korea, the Iranian issue is perceived even more directly—through the dilemma of potentially sending forces or providing other military assistance to the Strait of Hormuz. In an E-Daily analysis, the local debate is described as being trapped between two threats: the United States points out that Korea depends on Middle Eastern oil and expects a contribution from its ally; Iran, meanwhile, warns that it could regard even noncombat participation by Seoul as direct entry into the war. For Germany and France, the Iranian campaign is primarily a test of Europe’s ability to act independently. For Seoul, it is a question with a harsher practical arithmetic: participation could strengthen relations with the United States, but jeopardize energy security, shipping and South Korea’s own regional diplomacy. (edaily.co.kr)

It is especially telling that South Korean analysts link Trump’s foreign policy to his domestic position. Im Sung-nam, a former first vice minister of foreign affairs of South Korea, warns in an E-Daily interview that the president’s electoral difficulties could push him to pursue an even more active foreign-policy “breakthrough”—from Iran to negotiations involving North Korea and Ukraine. This is a view rarely voiced so openly in American debates: Seoul fears not only US power, but also the possibility that Korean security could become raw material for American electoral tactics. When Trump says the war with Iran will end after the November elections, South Korean television channels discuss this not as a diplomatic forecast, but as a possible sign that the military timetable is being tailored to political needs. (ytn.co.kr)

The second common theme is the transformation of US trade policy into a permanent source of uncertainty. In Germany, this is measured not only by the export sector’s irritation, but also by canceled investments. A study by the ifo Institute, based on a survey of around 1,800 industrial companies, shows that 62% of firms see a negative effect from US policy, rising to more than 70% in mechanical engineering and automotive manufacturing; nearly 40% of companies have canceled, postponed or reconsidered projects because of it. The German conclusion is pragmatic: Trump’s tariffs are dangerous not only because of their direct costs, but also because they make long-term planning impossible. (ifo.de)

France views the same tariffs through the lens of a European compromise. An official briefing from the French Treasury records a base rate of 15% for most European goods imported into the United States, with exceptions for certain sectors. Paris is formally betting on keeping the agreement manageable, but the political mood is far darker: American protectionism is seen as proof that economic interdependence no longer automatically protects allies. From the French perspective, this is not a temporary dispute between the two sides of the Atlantic, but a new normal in which Europe must have tools of its own—a deliberate industrial policy, a unified capital market and a readiness to use trade countermeasures. (tresor.economie.gouv.fr)

For South Korea, the tariff problem is connected to a broader fear of dependence on American rules in technology, investment and supply chains. Seoul is linked to the United States by a security alliance, while simultaneously competing for access to the US market in automobiles, batteries, semiconductors and shipbuilding. As a result, South Korean debate is less inclined toward loud calls for autonomy than the French debate, and less focused on old transatlantic disappointment than the German one. Its tone is adaptive: strengthen the alliance, but create alternative supply routes, legal guarantees for investors, and political ties not only with the White House, but also with Congress, the states and American business.

This is where the third common theme emerges: the United States is becoming harder to predict not because the world has stopped understanding one particular president, but because more and more external actors view this unpredictability as structural. The German weekly Die Zeit describes Berlin’s painful dependence: Germany still relies on the United States for both defense and technology, even though Trump personally “cannot be relied upon.” A Forsa poll for the magazine Internationale Politik found that 67% of Germans believe the impact of US policy on Germany is greater than it was several years ago. This is the paradox of modern Europe: the desire to depend less on the United States is growing at the same time as awareness of how difficult it would be to reduce that dependence quickly. (zeit.de)

The overall conclusion from Berlin, Paris and Seoul is not that America is “withdrawing” or losing its status as a key power. Rather, allies are ceasing to regard American leadership as a free public good. Germany sees the risk of strategic dependence; France sees the need to turn autonomy into practice; and South Korea sees the danger of being drawn into other people’s crises under the banner of allied solidarity. The most unexpected common feature of these reactions is the absence of any illusion that a change in the balance of power after the midterm elections will automatically restore the old normal. The outside world is increasingly preparing not for an “America after Trump,” but for an era in which any United States will be both an indispensable partner and a source of political, military and economic risk.

❮ ❯

America as a Source of Uncertainty: China, Brazil and Ukraine Respond Differently...

In discussions in China, Brazil and Ukraine over the past few days, the United States has emerged not merely as a great power, but as a generator of changes to which others must urgently adapt. The issues differ: in Beijing, US tariffs and restrictions in artificial intelligence are especially prominent; in Brazil, a new phase of the tariff conflict over exports and the Pix instant-payment system; and in Ukraine, the Donald Trump administration’s attempt to revive negotiations with Moscow. But the underlying concern is the same: local commentators increasingly see Washington as a partner whose rules, promises and tools of pressure may change faster than negotiations can be completed.

The broadest common theme is the transformation of US trade policy into an instrument of political coercion. Chinese authors describe this as the White House’s almost continuous search for new legal grounds to pursue its longstanding goal: maintaining high barriers even when existing mechanisms run up against judicial or political constraints. In an analysis by Xinhua, this logic is expressed in exceptionally stark terms: the rules and legal provisions change, but the “unilateral” nature of the policy does not. Beijing sees this not as an ordinary dispute over the trade balance, but as Washington’s attempt to establish the right to determine unilaterally who may participate in global trade and on what terms. New US measures against Canada, announced on September 8, have only reinforced this picture: bans on some Canadian imports and 50 percent tariffs on additional categories of goods are viewed in the Chinese press as proof that even America’s closest allies are coming under attack. (news.cn)

Brazil’s reaction is much more practical, but it reflects the same concern about sovereignty. After the United States imposed additional tariffs of 25 percent on some Brazilian imports, negotiations resumed. However, US complaints concerned not only goods but also Brazil’s domestic institutions—including Pix, the national instant-payment system—and access to the ethanol market. In an Agência Brasil report, the dispute is described as a conflict in which a US trade procedure is being used to assess Brazil’s domestic policies. (agenciabrasil.ebc.com.br) This is particularly sensitive for Brasília: Pix is not merely a fintech service, but a symbol of the state’s ability to build its own digital infrastructure without relying on US payment giants. As a result, the local debate is not limited to how much exporters may lose; it raises the question of whether the country can pursue an independent industrial and digital policy without risking tariff penalties.

At the same time, Brazilian analysts are not advocating a romantic break with the United States. Their conclusion is rather that vulnerability must be reduced. CNN Brasil economic commentator Débora Oliveira notes in an analysis marking the anniversary of the first “tarifaço” that over the past year Brazil has become less dependent on the US market. (cnnbrasil.com.br) This point matters more than the statistics: in Brazil’s reading, US pressure not only creates losses but also accelerates the search for other markets, agreements and supply chains. Gustavo Pessoa, an economist at the Getulio Vargas Foundation, notes in a comment for TMC that the tariff is formally paid by the US importer, although the indirect damage also affects Brazilian producers. His forecast is sober: the tariffs are likely to remain, and Brazil will have to continue technical negotiations with Washington. (tmc.com.br) In other words, Brazil’s strategy is neither capitulation nor a trade war for the sake of making a gesture, but diversification while keeping the negotiating channel open.

In the Chinese view, the same pattern extends to technology. US statements alleging that Chinese companies are copying American AI models on an “industrial scale” prompted an official protest from Beijing. A representative of China’s Ministry of Commerce called the allegations unfounded and saw them as evidence of the United States’ desire to monopolize computing power. Chinese experts in Global Times describe this approach as the politicization and “weaponization” of technological rules. (globaltimes.cn) The specifically Chinese aspect here is that tariffs and technology bans are viewed as parts of a single system: one restricts access to markets, while the other restricts access to knowledge, chips and AI infrastructure. In this narrative, Washington is no longer protecting individual industries but attempting to address a strategic task—to slow the emergence of a competitor capable of acting autonomously in critical technologies.

Ukraine’s perspective on the United States is entirely different in terms of what is at stake, but similar in its attitude toward the unpredictability of US policy. Following Steve Witkoff and Jared Kushner’s visit to Kyiv on September 6, and then Trump’s telephone conversation with Vladimir Putin on September 8, Ukrainian media have focused less on the diplomatic activity itself than on its substance and guarantees. European Pravda writes that Kyiv sees value in returning to a trilateral US–Ukraine–Russia format, but harbors no illusions about the war ending soon. (eurointegration.com.ua) The main Ukrainian point can be expressed almost as a formula: negotiations make sense only when they strengthen, rather than replace, defense. That is why discussions of a possible ceasefire are constantly accompanied by questions about air-defense supplies, Patriot systems, security guarantees and support ahead of winter.

Ukraine’s wariness of the very idea of a “breakthrough” is especially characteristic. In a comment for NV, Ihor Chalenko, head of the Center for Analysis and Strategy, asks not whether a new American plan can bring peace closer in general, but whether it can bring peace closer on terms acceptable to Ukraine. (podcasts.nv.ua) This is a fundamental distinction. For the US administration, an interim diplomatic success may have value in its own right; for Kyiv, an end to the fighting without effective guarantees and without pressure on Moscow could prove merely a pause beneficial to Russia. Ukrainian authors therefore interpret Trump’s contacts with Putin not as an automatically positive signal, but as a test: is Washington prepared to combine its desire for a quick agreement with real pressure on Russia and the strengthening of Ukraine’s position?

The most unexpected common conclusion from these three national debates is that criticism of the United States does not necessarily amount to anti-Americanism. China uses US tariffs and technology measures to argue for technological self-reliance; Brazil uses them to defend economic and digital sovereignty; and Ukraine uses them to demand that US diplomacy remain grounded in the military and political reality of the war. All three reactions converge on one point: the era when an American initiative was considered, in itself, a sufficient guarantee of an outcome is over. Now, in Beijing, Brasília and Kyiv, people assess not Washington’s intentions but the cost of its decisions, the durability of its commitments and what tools other countries retain if the US course changes again.

❮ ❯

America as Risk and Resource: What Riyadh, Kyiv and Pretoria Say About Washington

In the first days of September 2026, the United States simultaneously found itself at the center of three very different but interconnected conversations—about war, security and the cost of dependence on the world’s largest economy. In Saudi Arabia, the American line in the conflict with Iran is viewed primarily through the threat to the Persian Gulf, shipping and the oil market. In Ukraine, the main focus is on the new American mediation efforts and on whether Donald Trump’s desire for a rapid diplomatic result could turn into pressure on Kyiv. In South Africa, the United States is discussed neither as a military ally nor as a mediator, but as a market capable of wiping out years of industrial policy with a single tariff decision. The common thread running through these reactions is simple: Washington remains an indispensable player, but its partners are increasingly unwilling to accept American decisions as a given.

The most alarming issue in Riyadh is not the abstract rivalry between the United States and Iran, but the danger that an American-Iranian escalation will exact a regional price paid by Iran’s neighbors. In a column published on September 6 in Al Jazirah, Saudi author Subhi Shabana defines the kingdom’s position with precision: Saudi Arabia is not a party to the war, but is “at the very center of its consequences.” This refers to the security of the Strait of Hormuz, energy exports, shipping insurance risks and the possibility that the conflict will spread to new fronts. The author insists that a state’s strength is measured not by the number of weapons at its disposal, but by its ability to prevent war from spreading. This is an important local qualification to American deterrence rhetoric: in the Saudi reading, effective security means not maximum pressure on Tehran, but preserving room for negotiations and preventing an uncontrolled regional chain reaction. (al-jazirah.com)

This view does not mean a break with the United States. On the contrary, the Saudi debate proceeds from the premise that the military and political partnership with Washington is necessary, but must not deprive Riyadh of its freedom of maneuver. When Secretary of State Marco Rubio said on September 8 that the United States was closely monitoring rising tensions between Saudi Arabia and the Houthis, he emphasized the two countries’ “strong defense military relationship.” However, the local logic demands more from this relationship than a promise of protection: it requires American policy that does not increase the kingdom’s own vulnerability. CNN Arabic reports that Washington describes the Houthis as an Iranian tool; in Riyadh, however, the overriding question is how to prevent the conflict in Yemen and around Iran from once again drawing the kingdom into direct confrontation. (arabic.cnn.com)

Ukraine’s reaction to America is emotionally closer to that of an ally, but no less wary. Following special envoys Steve Witkoff and Jared Kushner’s visits to Moscow on September 5 and Kyiv on September 6, the Ukrainian agenda focused not on the fact of the contacts themselves, but on who determines their substance. Volodymyr Zelensky thanked the American representatives for restarting the negotiating process, while simultaneously stating the key condition: without a strong Ukrainian position on the battlefield, there will be not negotiations but ultimatums. He also said that the country was counting on a winter package including air defense, energy assistance and American liquefied natural gas. In a publication by the Center for Countering Disinformation, this idea appears as Kyiv’s political formula: diplomacy is desirable, but it can be viable only if American material support is maintained. (cpd.gov.ua)

Ukrainian commentators are particularly sensitive to the risk of returning to a model in which the key parameters of the war are discussed between Washington and Moscow, while Kyiv is left to respond. An editorial analysis by OstroV links Russia’s massive September 8 strike to the talks held by the American envoys: in its assessment, Moscow is demonstrating that the diplomatic track does not constrain its military campaign. Author Serhii Harmash warns that discussions of an “energy truce” might appear advantageous for Ukraine, while simultaneously weakening its ability to inflict damage on Russia’s oil-refining sector—one of the few pressure tools comparable in effect to sanctions. This is no longer simply distrust of the United States, but a demand of American mediation: it must not replace a strategy of forcing Russia to make concessions with a strategy of seeking a quick deal. (ostro.org)

It is telling that this concern coexists with pragmatism in Ukraine. In an article by the Ukrainian Service of Polish Radio, Ihor Chalenko, head of the Center for Analysis and Strategy, discusses the Americans’ visit against the backdrop of continuing Russian attacks. The fact that the mediators came to hear Kyiv’s position after visiting Moscow is seen as a necessary correction to the process, but not as evidence that peace is approaching. (polskieradio.pl)

In South Africa, the same problem of dependence on American decisions is expressed in the language of export industries, jobs and structural inequality. The current dispute was triggered by new American tariffs: after the previous 30% “reciprocal” tariff on South Africa was lifted, a 12.5% rate was imposed under Section 301 of U.S. trade law. For Pretoria, this is not relief but a partial reprieve. Trade Minister Parks Tau said the government would continue negotiations with the U.S. Trade Representative, seeking the abolition or reduction of the tariff, while also preparing rules against imports produced using forced and child labor. This policy was reported by the official SAnews. (sanews.gov.za)

But the most substantive South African criticism concerns not only the size of the tariff, but also which industries it affects. Economists Jing Chien and Lawrence Edwards calculated in a Business Day column that more than 80% of the approximately 2,700 product lines imported by the United States from South Africa in 2024 are affected by the tariff. Their forecast is that exports in the directly affected categories could fall by $1.9 billion, putting around 45,500 jobs at risk. Automobiles, chemicals and base metals are particularly vulnerable; meanwhile, the exemptions mainly cover raw materials—platinum-group metals, gold and citrus. Their conclusion is that American policy reinforces South Africa’s role as a resource supplier and harms the manufacturing industries the country has spent years trying to develop. (businessday.co.za)

This is where an unexpected common theme emerges among the three countries. Saudi Arabia wants American power not to turn its geographic position into a danger; Ukraine wants America’s pursuit of peace not to turn it into the object of someone else’s deal; and South Africa wants American trade policy not to lock it into the periphery of the global economy. In all three cases, the United States is perceived not as a distant superpower, but as a participant in domestic calculations about sovereignty. The difference is that Riyadh is trying to use its diplomatic and energy influence, Kyiv its military resilience and moral authority as the victim of aggression, and Pretoria negotiations, regulatory concessions and the search for new markets. But the conclusion is the same: relations with America can no longer be built on the expectation of automatic guarantees—they must continually be turned into concrete, verifiable commitments.

❮ ❯

America as a Source of Risk: Why Japan, Brazil and Israel Debate Its Cost

By September 9, 2026, the main American story prompting strong reactions in Japan, Brazil and Israel was not another domestic political drama in Washington, but the United States’ prolonged confrontation with Iran. A new round of exchanges around the Strait of Hormuz pushed Brent crude above $100 a barrel for the first time since May. Yet the three countries interpret the story in entirely different ways: in Japan, as a test of energy security and America’s ability to contain China at the same time; in Brazil, as an imported inflationary shock and an example of how U.S. geopolitics is reshaping the oil market; and in Israel, as a painful reminder that even its closest ally may pursue its own vision of how the war should end—one that does not necessarily coincide with Israel’s. As Brazil’s Folha de S.Paulo reported, Brent rose to $100.95 on September 9 amid U.S. strikes on Iranian tankers and retaliatory Iranian attacks on vessels and facilities belonging to U.S. allies. (www1.folha.uol.com.br)

The Japanese debate is particularly revealing because the American operation is viewed there as more than a Middle Eastern war. For Tokyo, Hormuz is an artery linking the conflict to the country’s everyday economy: about 90% of Japan’s oil imports come from the Middle East. In his Nikkei Book Plus column, energy analyst Noriaki Oba suggests viewing current events not as a brief market flare-up, but as the return of the structural vulnerability seen during the 1973 oil crisis. His central point is that reserves and alternative routes are indeed better than they were half a century ago, but Japan’s dependence on the region has not fundamentally disappeared. (bookplus.nikkei.com)

Even more troubling for Japanese commentators is the strategic impact. An analysis by nippon.com says that the prolonged redeployment of U.S. aircraft carriers and air-defense resources to the Middle East could weaken deterrence in the Indo-Pacific, particularly in the event of a crisis around Taiwan. Japan’s reaction, therefore, is not limited to fears of expensive gasoline: in seeking to force concessions from Tehran, Washington may inadvertently reduce the credibility of its guarantees in areas where Japan considers them vital. The authors also note broader distrust of the style of U.S. leadership: a Pew international survey they cite found that, across 36 countries, 76% of respondents distrust Donald Trump’s international leadership. (nippon.com)

In Brazil, the American war is viewed above all through the price of money. The rise in oil prices is a mixed signal. It may appear favorable for the oil sector and export revenues, but for households, importers and the Central Bank, it poses the risk of a new wave of inflation. In a CNN Brasil article, Sincra Chief Investment Officer Gustavo Cruz links pressure on U.S. prices to the war, while Mirae Asset Chief Economist Marianne Costa explains that rising U.S. bond yields are immediately transmitted to emerging markets, including Brazil. In other words, the local concern is this: the United States is waging a war far from South America, but Brazilian companies and consumers may pay through higher borrowing costs and a weaker currency. (cnnbrasil.com.br)

Brazilian perceptions of the United States are also shaped by the Venezuelan angle. In Latin America, Washington’s agreement granting it access to Venezuela’s oil fields is seen less as a technical measure to stabilize supply than as an attempt by the United States to gain political control over a neighbor’s strategic resource. Even in Folha’s account, experts emphasize that a significant increase in production would require years and enormous investment, while the structure of the deal itself is already fueling talk of “neocolonialism” in Venezuela. For Brazilian audiences, this adds an important qualification to the American argument about protecting the global energy market: Washington is simultaneously fighting for freedom of navigation in Hormuz and building an exclusive oil mechanism in the Western Hemisphere. (www1.folha.uol.com.br)

Israel’s reaction to the same war is the most paradoxical. One might expect American pressure on Iran to be viewed as an unconditional benefit. Yet in Israel, the demand for toughness toward Tehran is growing alongside doubts that the American strategy is actually making the country safer. The Israeli newspaper Israel Hayom described the U.S. economic war against Iran as a “calculated but dangerous gamble”: according to the paper, the blockade and strikes have not forced Tehran to accept Washington’s terms, but have instead given it time to rebuild its missile, drone and potentially nuclear capabilities. (israelhayom.co.il)

These concerns are supported by more than editorial tone. A June poll by the Israel Institute for National Security Studies—INSS—found that 66% of Israelis consider the U.S.-Iran memorandum bad for Israel; only 12% believe Trump is “very committed” to protecting Israeli interests. Even more revealing is the distribution of views on the war: 37% see Iran as the winner, 43% say there is no winner, and only 15% name Israel as the winner. (inss.org.il)

This is the main conclusion emerging from the Japanese, Brazilian and Israeli reactions. None of them considers the United States a weak power: American military, financial and sanctions power remains a decisive factor. But local observers increasingly question whether that power is being converted into a predictable political outcome. Japan fears that America is dissipating its strategic attention; Brazil fears that it is exporting inflation and politicizing energy; Israel fears that the American campaign could end in a deal leaving Iran room to rebuild. This is no longer familiar anti-Americanism, nor a simple expectation of American leadership. It is a more sober and uncomfortable view: Washington’s decisions have become so global in their effects that allies and partners are judging the United States primarily by the price they themselves will have to pay for American strategy.

❮ ❯

America as a Source of Risk and Opportunity: How Japan, Turkey and Ukraine View Trump’s Wars, Oil and...

By September 8, 2026, discussion of America in Japan, Turkey and Ukraine has come to revolve around the same feeling: Washington is once again capable of changing the rules of the game overnight—but is no longer necessarily able to ensure a stable order on its own afterward. The most prominent issues in recent days have been the renewed US-Iranian military escalation and the threat to shipping through the Strait of Hormuz, a new attempt by Donald Trump’s team to restart negotiations on Ukraine, and the impact of US inflation and Federal Reserve policy on vulnerable economies. Yet in each of the three countries, the United States is viewed through the lens of its own concerns: in Japan, through energy security and fears over the destruction of international law; in Turkey, through the opportunity to strengthen Ankara’s role as a mediator and ally; and in Ukraine, through anxiety that the White House’s desire for a “deal” may prove more important than a just peace.

The most tangible American problem for Japan and Turkey at present is not diplomatic rhetoric but oil. Following a new round of US-Iranian strikes, markets are once again focused on the Strait of Hormuz, through which a critical share of Middle Eastern supplies passes. For Tokyo, this is almost an existential issue. Energy analyst Nobuhide Kiuchi warns in an analysis by the Nomura Institute that a return of WTI to above $90 per barrel could add around 0.3 percentage points to Japanese inflation and increase annual household expenses by approximately ¥13,000. His main conclusion is particularly telling: American oil has become a temporary safety net for Japan amid the Middle Eastern crisis, but that safety net is not unlimited. The expected reduction in US shipments in September shows that even an allied energy lifeline depends on commercial contracts, domestic demand in America and the military situation.

Japan’s response therefore differs noticeably from the familiar Western discussion of “containing Iran.” The central question is not so much who will win, but whether predictability can be restored to maritime routes and international rules. In a recent editorial in the Asahi Shimbun, the US reliance on overwhelming military force is described as a dangerous simplification that does not produce a political solution. This perspective is important in Japan’s public discourse: a country dependent on imported resources and maritime trade views US coercive policy not as distant geopolitics, but as a direct risk to prices, industry and its own strategic position in East Asia. This gives rise to an underlying concern: if Washington can so easily set international norms aside in the Middle East, how convincingly will it be able to demand that they be observed in the Taiwan Strait or with regard to North Korea?

In Turkey, the same crisis is viewed less detachedly and more instrumentally. Ankara wants neither a prolonged American war with Iran nor another spike in energy prices, but at the same time it sees instability as proof of its indispensable position between NATO, the Middle East, the Black Sea and Europe. Turkish debate starts from the assumption that the United States is overburdened by several crises at once, giving regional powers room to maneuver. Even in an Independent Türkçe analysis of why the United States wants to end the war in Ukraine, written by strategic analyst Osman Gazi Kandemir on September 7, the war is considered primarily as a factor tying up American resources in Europe and limiting the United States in its rivalry with China. From the Turkish perspective, this is not merely an explanation of Trump’s motives; it is an argument for why Washington objectively needs Ankara—in the Black Sea and Syria, as well as in diplomacy with Moscow and Kyiv.

Ukraine’s response to the same American overextension is considerably harsher. In Kyiv, the arrival of Steve Witkoff and Jared Kushner on September 6 was seen as an important symbol: for the first time, key Trump representatives had traveled not only to Moscow but also to Ukraine. Kyiv considers the inclusion of representatives from Britain, France and Germany in the third round of contacts a useful outcome. According to the Ukrainian logic, Europe should not merely be the party that later pays the consequences of an American-Russian agreement. But there is almost no optimism. In an analysis by Ukrainska Pravda, Vladislav Faraponov, head of the Institute of American Studies, assesses the impact of the visit as limited: in his view, the Kremlin’s position has not changed, and for the war to truly become a priority, it is necessary to speak directly with Trump, not only with his envoys.

This Ukrainian wariness is not based on opposition to negotiations as such. Kyiv is ready for a trilateral format with the United States and Russia, which Kushner spoke about reviving. But in the Ukrainian interpretation, negotiations are valuable only when they are backed by coercion aimed at forcing Russia to make concessions. Otherwise, the “many new ideas” mentioned by the American envoys after their meetings risk becoming a new name for the old deadlock. Ukrainian commentators are especially sensitive to the asymmetry of the contacts: before the current trip, Witkoff had already visited Moscow several times, while Kyiv had long been bypassed by the American team. This gives rise to fears that American diplomacy views the war primarily as a problem to be removed from the agenda, rather than as aggression whose consequences must be addressed.

This is where the Ukrainian and Japanese perspectives intersect. For Ukraine, a dangerous deal is one that rewards force and leaves Russia able to recover for another war. For Japan, the same principle is tied to a much broader question: is it acceptable for a great power to cement changes to borders or spheres of influence achieved through military pressure? Japanese experts have long drawn parallels between Ukraine and East Asia. A strategic review by the Japan Institute of International Affairs explicitly stressed that Tokyo has an interest in ensuring that a peace agreement does not undermine Ukraine’s territorial sovereignty. For Japanese audiences, this is not abstract solidarity but a lesson for their own security environment.

Turkey, by contrast, sees not only a risk in these negotiations but also a vacancy. Official Ankara continues to speak of the need to revive direct Russian-Ukrainian dialogue. On September 1, Turkey’s representative to the UN, Ahmet Yıldız, said that resuming the negotiation process was “vital,” while once again confirming Turkey’s non-recognition of the annexation of Crimea and its support for Ukraine’s territorial integrity, as Anadolu reported. But the practical Turkish meaning of this position lies elsewhere: if American mediation stalls because of Iran, domestic politics and global rivalry with China, Istanbul may once again become a working venue where Moscow and Kyiv are at least able to talk to each other.

The most unexpected common feature of these three reactions is not anti-Americanism but doubts about the reliability of American consistency. Ukraine still considers the United States an indispensable source of pressure on Russia and military support. Japan needs its alliance with America as the foundation of its defense. Turkey seeks to improve relations with Washington, including on sanctions and the defense industry. Yet in all three countries, Trump’s America is seen as a power whose priorities can change sharply: Ukraine today, Iran tomorrow, and domestic inflation or an election agenda the day after that.

That is why local discussions converge on a single conclusion. The United States is now judged not by the force of its statements or the number of envoys’ visits, but by whether it can simultaneously prevent the Strait of Hormuz from triggering a new energy panic, avoid turning peace in Ukraine into a pause before the next war, and preserve the trust of its allies. For Japan, this is a test of international law; for Turkey, a test of its growing role as a mediator; and for Ukraine, a test of whether Washington is prepared to pay the political price for a peace that will be not merely quick, but lasting.

❮ ❯

America as a Source of Risk: Why Japan, Russia and Germany Are Increasingly Talking Not About...

In the first days of September 2026, attention in Japan, Russia and Germany is focused on two American stories at once: the resumption of U.S. strikes on Iranian targets and the Trump administration’s latest attempt to launch negotiations between Moscow and Kyiv. Yet local debates share a broader conclusion: the United States remains an indispensable power, but its actions are increasingly perceived as an unpredictable guarantee of order. In Tokyo, this is measured by oil prices, the yen’s exchange rate and the ability of America, as an ally, to deter China; in Berlin, by the risk of an endless war in the Middle East and fears that Europe’s security is once again being discussed without Europe; in Moscow, by the possibility of turning America’s need for a deal into a diplomatic advantage.

The war with Iran has become the main test of this perception. In an article for nippon.com, Japanese commentator Kazuhiro Maeda writes that six months after the U.S.-Israeli campaign began, the rapid elimination of the nuclear threat initially promised has not materialized: the conflict is bogged down around the Strait of Hormuz, while America, in his assessment, is itself spreading distrust of its actions. For Japan, this is not an abstract dispute over Middle East strategy. Nobuhiko Kiuchi, an economist at the Nomura Research Institute, calculated that a return of oil prices to around $90 per barrel could add approximately 0.3 percentage points to Japanese inflation and increase the average annual burden on a household by about ¥13,000; meanwhile, hopes of replacing Persian Gulf supplies with American crude have limits. From the Japanese perspective, the problem lies not only with Tehran, but also in the fact that Washington’s military solution makes an energy-import-dependent country hostage to someone else’s escalation. (nri.com)

The German reaction is far more politicized, but reaches a similar conclusion. An analysis by Deutsche Welle describes the logic of the American “mowing the lawn” strategy: Iran rebuilds its military capabilities, the United States launches another strike, and the cycle repeats. Author Andreas Noll emphasizes that this model, borrowed from the fight against non-state armed groups, is poorly suited to a large state with an industrial base and the ability to threaten the Strait of Hormuz. In other words, military superiority does not translate into a political outcome. This asymmetry is especially important in Germany’s public debate: Washington can choose the scale of its strike, but not the adversary’s response—while the consequences, in the form of expensive energy, unstable trade and a new security crisis, also fall on Europe. (amp.dw.com)

In Russia’s expert community, the same conflict is interpreted through the prism of the redistribution of power in Asia. A MGIMO expert on the East and a researcher at the Institute of Oriental Studies of the Russian Academy of Sciences, in a commentary for the Russian International Affairs Council, calls the U.S.-Iran war a “slow-moving endless war” and links it to the prospects of a so-called “Asian NATO.” This is an important and far from obvious Russian emphasis: in Moscow, the Middle East campaign is viewed not only as a conflict between the United States and Iran, but also as a test of Washington’s ability to hold the Middle East, support European security and focus on the Indo-Pacific region simultaneously. For Japan, this perspective is particularly troubling: the more American resources and attention are absorbed by the Strait of Hormuz, the less convincing America’s role in deterring threats in East Asia appears. (russiancouncil.ru)

The second story—the visit by Steve Witkoff and Jared Kushner to Moscow on September 5 and then to Kyiv on September 6—prompted nearly mirror-image, though not identical, reactions. Russian political analyst Fyodor Lukyanov, editor-in-chief of the journal Russia in Global Affairs, in an article for the RIAC, urges recognition of the Trump administration’s persistence: in his view, the White House remains the only Western player that is genuinely trying to do something and has leverage over the situation. Yet Lukyanov immediately tempers expectations: too much is at stake for Russia and Ukraine for the war to end with the quick “deal” favored by Trump. This is a characteristic Russian position: American mediation is welcomed not as moral arbitration, but as a useful channel through which the balance of interests can be discussed and Moscow’s isolation eased. (russiancouncil.ru)

In Germany, however, the order of the trip—Moscow first, Kyiv second—became a symbol of anxiety. German commentators do not deny the value of negotiations, but question the very structure of the mediation, in which Russian demands are heard before Ukrainian ones. Tagesschau quoted Witkoff as saying that both sides must make compromises, while Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky assessed the prospects considerably more cautiously. In a commentary in Süddeutsche Zeitung, the question is posed even more sharply: does the American envoy understand who the aggressor is? Behind this lies more than Berlin’s irritation with Trump’s style. Germany fears that the language of equal mutual concessions could blur the fundamental fact of the war—Russia’s invasion of Ukraine—and turn European security into an object of bargaining between Washington and Moscow. (tagesschau.de)

The Japanese perspective is quieter, but no less significant strategically. Tokyo sees American diplomacy as both a necessity and a warning: the alliance with the United States remains the foundation of security, but the ally increasingly acts as a tough negotiator, ready to link security, trade and macroeconomics. Particularly telling was the episode involving U.S. Treasury Secretary Scott Bessent, who, at a meeting with Bank of Japan Governor Kazuo Ueda, voiced support for measures to correct what he considers a substantially undervalued yen. Japanese observers saw this as direct American pressure on the country’s domestic monetary policy. (fnn.jp)

This is precisely how the broader international image of the United States in September 2026 is taking shape. Russia sees America as a power interested in a deal and therefore potentially receptive to Russian arguments. Germany sees a partner whose diplomatic improvisation could leave Europeans facing faits accomplis. Japan sees an indispensable military ally whose wars and financial demands could simultaneously undermine its economic stability and divert attention from Asia. Their interests, language and political sympathies differ, but the main point is shared: America no longer merely sets the rules. Increasingly, it itself is becoming the main source of uncertainty to which other states must adapt.

❮ ❯

America as a Source of Strategic Anxiety: Brazil, Germany and Australia Debate the Cost...

By early September 2026, the United States had simultaneously become a source of three different but interconnected anxieties for Brazil, Germany and Australia: the protracted war with Iran, Washington’s ostentatious return to a policy of force in Latin America, and its increasingly unpredictable attitude toward allies and trading partners. In local debates, the US no longer appears to be the familiar guarantor of order. It is seen as a power whose domestic political calculations—gas prices, midterm elections and Donald Trump’s personal style—can alter the strategic conditions for everyone else.

The most common theme is Iran. In Germany, the conflict is discussed primarily as a test of international law and European autonomy. German broadcaster ARD notes that the US strategy is simultaneously seeking to halt Tehran through military pressure and economically strangle it, but risks achieving the opposite: according to expert Brian Jacobian, regular strikes could convince Iran that its only reliable guarantee of survival is its own nuclear weapons. In a Deutsche Welle analysis, this logic is expressed particularly bluntly: Washington and Israel may accelerate precisely the process they sought to prevent. (amp.dw.com)

Germany’s reaction, however, is not reducible to anti-Americanism. Chancellor Friedrich Merz continues to emphasize the threat posed by Iran’s nuclear program, but divisions within Germany’s political environment are becoming increasingly apparent between the need to preserve ties with the US and the unwillingness to accept as normal a war without a clear legal and political resolution. President Frank-Walter Steinmeier called the war “a politically disastrous mistake” and a violation of international law, adding that the West remains an ideal in terms of values but has effectively ceased to exist as a unified political reality. This formulation, quoted by Tagesschau, captures the German mood well: Berlin fears not only Iran, but also the fact that American power is no longer backed by predictable rules. (tagesschau.de)

Australians view the same war through a completely different, almost painfully practical question: how far can its alliance with the US draw Canberra into a conflict it did not start and does not control? In an ABC analysis published on September 7, US correspondent John Lyons describes Iran as a “quagmire” from which Trump does not know how to escape. He notes that the initial goals—depriving Tehran of its nuclear capabilities and achieving regime change—have not been met. The objective then became restoring shipping through the Strait of Hormuz, even though the war itself made this artery almost impassable. (abc.net.au) For Australia, this is not a distant Middle Eastern drama: around one-fifth of global oil and gas trade passes through Hormuz, meaning the war translates into fuel prices, inflation and the risk of supply disruptions.

But Australia’s main concern is not oil—it is sovereignty. ABC global affairs editor Laura Tingle observes that almost every country is reassessing its relationship with Washington, while Australia continues to deepen AUKUS. She is particularly concerned about the agreement’s transformation: instead of giving Australia its own submarine capability, it increasingly looks like an infrastructure project for the US Navy. Defense Minister Richard Marles explained the agreement’s value to the US directly, saying that servicing American submarines in Western Australia would give the US Navy more days of operational presence in a key region. In an ABC column, this sounds paradoxical: Canberra calls AUKUS a strengthening of sovereignty, while critics see it turning the country into a larger American military outpost. (abc.net.au)

Former Prime Minister Paul Keating articulates Australia’s anxiety even more sharply. He compared Trump’s view of international politics to the logic of mafioso “spheres of influence” and urged Australia not to support the US attempt to contain China through military force from 10,000 miles away from the American coast. His point is important precisely because it is local rather than American: Australia is not debating whether it needs a strong America in the Indo-Pacific; it is beginning to ask whether participating in the US rivalry with China could threaten its own security. (abc.net.au)

In Brazil, the image of the US is different today: not an unreliable distant ally, but an active force seeking to reshape the rules in its own hemisphere. The White House decision to gain control over part of Venezuela’s oil reserves has become the central symbol of Washington’s new policy. Officially, the Trump administration presents the agreement as the largest oil deal in history and a way to strengthen US energy security; the White House claims that the American side is gaining majority control over more than 65 billion barrels of Venezuela’s proven reserves. (whitehouse.gov) In the Brazilian press, however, this is seen not as a purely commercial project, but as a combination of energy, coercive pressure and political influence.

In a Folha de S.Paulo analysis, Trump’s new Latin America policy is reduced to three interconnected areas: oil, the fight against drug trafficking and political influence. The newspaper notes that the US government is acquiring a 35 percent stake in NABEP, a company linked to Venezuelan businessman Alejandro Betancourt, while the project entails control over 65 billion barrels out of Venezuela’s approximately 300 billion barrels in reserves. At the same time, even the US energy secretary acknowledges that significantly lowering oil prices will not be possible quickly; the process is expected to take several years. (www1.folha.uol.com.br) The Brazilian interpretation is therefore simple and uncomfortable for Washington: the slogan of energy stabilization is masking the restoration of American political dominance in the region.

For Brazil, this is not an abstract dispute over Venezuela. Difficult trade negotiations are taking place at the same time following the US introduction of 25 percent tariffs on some Brazilian imports; the American side has linked its demands, among other things, to the Pix instant-payment system and access to Brazil’s ethanol market. This was reported by the state-run Agência Brasil. (agenciabrasil.ebc.com.br) Consequently, in Brazil’s view, the “good relations” Trump talks about mean little without the removal of tariffs and an end to pressure on the country’s domestic politics. Folha writes directly that Washington’s praise for Brazil offers no promise of relief in the negotiations: the country remains simultaneously the target of trade pressure and diplomatic friction, as well as of US interest in critical minerals. (www1.folha.uol.com.br)

The most unexpected aspect of comparing the three countries is that they offer no single response to American unpredictability. Germany is seeking a way to preserve the transatlantic relationship without abandoning international law. Australia is effectively doubling down on the alliance, even as its public intellectual debate increasingly warns of dependence. Brazil is choosing a more confrontational sovereignty-based rhetoric because the pressure is being felt directly—in trade, regional politics and the struggle for resources. Yet the overall conclusion is the same: the problem is no longer whether Berlin, Canberra and Brasília agree with individual decisions by Trump. They are increasingly questioning whether a long-term strategy can be built around a country that simultaneously demands loyalty from its allies, imposes tariffs on its partners, and treats oil, security and political influence as elements of a single deal.

❮ ❯

America as a Source of Risk and an Indispensable Arbiter: How Turkey, Ukraine and Israel View Its...

In the first days of September 2026, the main topic of discussions about the United States in Turkey, Ukraine and Israel was not American domestic politics itself, but the limits of American power. Washington is simultaneously trying to contain its conflict with Iran, reclaim its role as a mediator in the Russian-Ukrainian war, and prevent a direct Turkish-Israeli confrontation in Syria. In local debates, this appears as one overarching problem: America still has the means to influence the course of wars, but its policy is increasingly seen as impulsive, dependent on the domestic political calendar, and therefore capable of creating new threats even where it promises stabilization.

The most notable point of agreement among the three countries is skepticism toward the American strategy against Iran. A new exchange of strikes between the United States and Iran in early September returned the conflict to a dangerous military phase after the June memorandum was supposed to provide the basis for de-escalation. The Turkish press primarily interprets this as a failure of the American pressure model itself. In a Medyascope analysis, the resumption of U.S. strikes is described not as an isolated operation, but as a new escalation of the war, with Iran responding by attacking American facilities in Jordan, Kuwait, Iraq and Bahrain. For Ankara, the key issue is not who carried out the latest strike, but the risk of the conflict spreading to neighboring states and trade routes.

The Turkish view is by no means uniform. Some commentators believe Washington is losing its ability to act as a guarantor of the regional order; others fear that, under the slogan of “regional autonomy,” Turkey could become involved in someone else’s confrontation. In an article by Recep Karagöz on the Turkish-Saudi-Pakistani Mecca Agreement, this dilemma is expressed particularly sharply: if the new security mechanism becomes independent and comprehensive, it will represent a step toward strategic autonomy; but if it effectively focuses on containing Iran while leaving the American and Israeli military presence outside the equation, regional armies will merely assume some of the risks from which the United States wants to distance itself. This is an important Turkish qualification to the American narrative: Washington’s withdrawal from direct involvement does not necessarily mean the end of American influence—sometimes it means passing the costs on to allies. (medyascope.tv)

The Israeli debate views the same war from a different angle. There, few question the need to pressure Tehran, but there is growing doubt that American tactics can resolve the issues most important to Israel—the nuclear program, Iran’s missile capabilities and maritime security. In Itamar Eichner’s commentary for Ynet, American precision strikes are described as a negotiating tool: according to the author, Trump is seeking to force Tehran into more substantive negotiations while demonstrating toughness to his electorate ahead of the midterm elections. But this logic is troubling precisely because military action is being subordinated not only to regional strategy, but also to the American political climate. (ynet.co.il)

An even harsher Israeli conclusion appears in an analysis by Iran expert Raz Zimmt: the June document between the United States and Iran turned out not to be a durable agreement, but a “memorandum of misunderstanding” that left nearly all the key issues unresolved. For Israeli audiences, this means that the seemingly convenient status quo—an weakened Iran, no major war and continued American pressure—may be the most dangerous option: Tehran gains time to rebuild its military capabilities, while Jerusalem receives no clear answer as to where America’s red lines lie. (ynet.co.il)

Ukraine’s reaction to the Iran issue is less emotional but perhaps more pragmatic. In Kyiv, the U.S.-Iran conflict is seen as a competition for American attention, air-defense missiles, ammunition and the political resources of the White House. Ukrainian analyst Petro Herasymenko, in an article for LB.ua, characterizes the American-Iranian confrontation as a state of “neither war nor peace”: the sides avoid decisive steps, hoping to wear each other down economically and politically. For Ukraine, this formula is particularly troubling: the longer the United States becomes bogged down in the Persian Gulf, the more likely it is that aid to Kyiv will be viewed in Washington as a secondary expense. (lb.ua)

This leads to the second major issue—the return of American diplomacy to the Russian-Ukrainian war. Local commentators greeted the visit of Steve Witkoff and Jared Kushner to Kyiv on September 6 with cautious approval, but without euphoria. After the talks, President Volodymyr Zelenskyy explicitly linked diplomacy to the country’s survival in the coming months: Ukraine is counting on a winter package including air defense, energy support and American LNG; without a strong position on the front, he warned, negotiations will turn into ultimatums. These remarks, published by Ukraine’s Center for Countering Disinformation, convey the local attitude toward American mediation well: negotiations are necessary, but only negotiations backed by weapons and infrastructure protection can be trusted. (cpd.gov.ua)

Ukraine’s unique perspective is that the United States is simultaneously seen as the only power capable of launching a meaningful process and as a partner who must constantly be dissuaded from the temptation of a “quick deal.” In a report by hromadske, the continuation of negotiations after the visit is discussed with cautious optimism. But the very tone of Ukraine’s reaction shows that Kyiv considers neither the arrival of American envoys nor an attractive formula about the “rapprochement of the sides” a success. What matters are concrete guarantees on the eve of winter. (hromadske.ua)

Turkey and Israel, meanwhile, also discuss the United States through the Syrian triangle. In Turkey, there is a growing sense that Washington is no longer able—or willing—to manage the contradictions between two of its key partners on its own. In a Medyascope program on Turkish-Israeli tensions, Gönül Tol links Israel’s strike on a site in Syria to the concerns of Benjamin Netanyahu’s government about a possible Turkish military presence. From the Turkish perspective, the issue is not limited to a single base: Israel is seeking to restrict in advance the space for Ankara to expand its influence in postwar Syria, while the United States is forced to act as a crisis dispatcher between allies whose strategic goals are becoming increasingly incompatible. (medyascope.tv)

Israelis see the opposite danger in this story: America’s desire to avoid conflict with Turkey could leave Israel alone to face the expansion of Turkish influence along its northern border. Thus, from the Israeli perspective, American restraint is not always a benefit. From the Turkish perspective, American mediation is useful only as long as it does not turn into an attempt to impose limits on Turkey’s regional role. This reveals a fundamental divide: both countries want American involvement, but each wants Washington to restrain the other side.

The overall conclusion of the local debates is paradoxical. Neither Ankara, Kyiv nor Jerusalem believes the United States can simply be replaced by another external player. Ukraine needs American air-defense systems and diplomatic weight; Israel needs American military and political cover; Turkey needs predictable dialogue with NATO and Washington’s ability to contain regional crises. Yet in all three societies, the conviction is growing that America can no longer be viewed as a stable center of order. For Kyiv, this means turning promises into deliveries. For Israel, it means demanding a clear strategy from the United States instead of temporary pauses. For Turkey, it means building its own regional foundations without becoming an instrument of someone else’s war. This dual attitude—dependence on American power coupled with distrust of American consistency—has become the main international story of early September.

❮ ❯

America as a Deal: Why Kyiv, Pretoria and Beijing Trust It Less...

In the first days of September 2026, discussions about America in South Africa, Ukraine and China unexpectedly come down to one question: what exactly is the United States willing to guarantee its partners—and for how long? The circumstances differ. In Pretoria, officials are discussing extending AGOA trade preferences only until 2028; in Kyiv, they are awaiting new contacts between American intermediaries, Moscow and Volodymyr Zelensky; and in China’s information space, preparations are under way for a possible visit by Xi Jinping to Washington on September 24, at the head of a large business delegation. Yet in all three countries, US policy is perceived not as a stable system of alliances and rules, but as a series of negotiations in which the terms can change at any moment.

South Africa’s reaction is the most visibly economic. The extension signed by Donald Trump of the African Growth and Opportunity Act, which provides duty-free access to the US market, was formally good news for Africa. However, a two-year horizon is far short of the 15 years Pretoria had sought. A Sunday Times analysis stresses that South Africa’s future eligibility under the scheme is still not guaranteed: Washington has opened a review of admission criteria for 2027, while relations between the two countries remain politically strained.

For South Africa, this is not an abstract dispute over tariffs. Cars, components, steel and aluminum are already facing US duties, while business data show that automotive export revenues from the US market fell sharply in 2025. The local debate therefore revolves around a paradox: preferential treatment has been preserved, but investor confidence has not been restored. Fakamile Hlubhi-Mayola, a representative of the Motor Industry Staff Association, welcomed the decision, noting that the automotive industry depends on long investment cycles. At the same time, the Solidarity union warns of the risk of losing thousands of skilled jobs if the country is excluded from the list of beneficiaries. Solidarity’s head of public relations, Jaco Kleynhans, stated bluntly that the organization intends to step up its engagement with the White House before the final decision on the 2027 list.

This is where a specifically South African anxiety becomes clear: for Pretoria, Trump’s America is less a geopolitical adversary than a market whose access has become an instrument of political pressure. US grievances concern not only the trade balance but also South Africa’s domestic policies, including land reform, requirements imposed on foreign investors and its foreign-policy “nonalignment.” This turns AGOA from a development mechanism into an annual test of political acceptability in Washington’s eyes.

Ukraine’s debate, by contrast, barely separates US policy from the question of physical security. Against the backdrop of a new round of mediation activity—following Steve Witkoff and Jared Kushner’s contacts with Vladimir Putin and ahead of their talks with Volodymyr Zelensky—Kyiv is discussing not so much the likelihood of peace as the price of a hasty peace. Political analyst Ihar Tyshkevich writes in a column for Glavkom that both Trump and Putin are in a hurry: for the US president, the window for achieving results may be only two or three months, while the Kremlin particularly benefits from a situation in which the United States remains the sole intermediary between Moscow and Kyiv.

Ukrainian commentators increasingly describe Washington not as an unconditional protector but as a player that needs a signed deal. Lesia Bidocko, an expert at the European Political Institute in Kyiv, puts it particularly bluntly in an article for Ukrainska Pravda: in her view, Trump needs an agreement that can be presented as his own achievement, while the durability of the accord and the political structure of the postwar order are pushed into the background. Hence Kyiv’s dual strategy: Ukraine is trying to be useful to the United States not as an aid recipient but as a partner—offering drone technology, combat experience and joint production, including prospects for US-Ukrainian cooperation in air defense. But, as Bidocko emphasizes, usefulness is not the same as security.

This is an important difference from South Africa’s reaction. Pretoria is seeking predictability for investors; Kyiv is trying to convert its military expertise into political insurance. But the diagnosis is the same: Washington’s promises now have to be backed by mutual benefit, a contract, a production chain or the American leader’s own domestic political interests.

In China, a different, more confident language prevails. There, the current US fluctuations are read not primarily as a threat but as evidence that America’s strategy is overstretched and contradictory. In recent articles, China’s Global Times links the widening US trade deficit to the limitations of the tariff approach: if domestic production cannot replace imports—especially in supply chains connected to AI, computers and semiconductors—new barriers merely increase costs for American companies and consumers. This argument turns American protectionism from a source of strength into a sign of dependence on global supply chains.

In Chinese rhetoric, the United States is simultaneously trying to contain China technologically, sustain a tense alliance architecture in Asia and spread its resources across the Middle East. Global Times describes the redeployment of the last US aircraft carrier from Asia to the Middle East as a bill Washington is being forced to pay for strategic overstretch. Behind this formulation lies not only a propagandistic barb but also a practical Chinese conclusion: Beijing gains additional negotiating leverage when the United States is forced to choose between several crises.

Against this backdrop, reports of a possible September 24 visit by Xi Jinping to the White House with a large group of Chinese corporate executives take on special significance. As Lianhe Zaobao notes, such a format is unusual: the Chinese leader rarely takes such a prominent business delegation on overseas trips, especially after years of Beijing taking a tougher stance toward the private sector. The signal is aimed not only at the United States: China wants to demonstrate its readiness to discuss investment and business precisely when Washington needs economic results and reduced tensions ahead of the US midterm elections.

The most unexpected common thread in these three reactions is that no one is waiting for a return to the old model of American leadership. South Africa is not counting on automatic extensions of market access; Ukraine does not believe political sympathy can replace institutional guarantees; and China does not assume that interdependence will eliminate rivalry. All three countries are adapting to an America that speaks the language of power, tariffs, personal mediation and short-term deals.

Yet the conclusions they draw are opposite. In Pretoria, they are looking for a way not to fall out with an indispensable trading partner. In Kyiv, they are looking for a way to become so valuable to Washington that a quick compromise at Ukraine’s expense would be too costly. In Beijing, meanwhile, they are trying to use America’s need for a deal as an argument for recognition of China’s equal status. The main international story surrounding the United States today is therefore neither “America’s decline” nor “America’s return,” but the struggle among different countries to determine the terms on which they will deal with Washington.

❮ ❯

America as a Source of Uncertainty: Views in Germany, Japan and South Africa on the New Use of Force...

On September 5–6, 2026, German, Japanese and South African commentators focused not on a single American story but on an entire chain of events: the United States struck three Iranian oil tankers after a missile attack on its ships; Donald Trump’s administration continued turning sanctions into an instrument of pressure on third countries; and allies and trading partners once again faced the reality that American decisions quickly become their own domestic economic and political problem. In Germany, this is seen primarily as a symptom of Washington’s strategic failure; in Japan, as a risk to fuel supplies, the yen and financial stability; and in South Africa, as a reminder that access to the US market increasingly comes with political conditions.

The latest maritime escalation in the Persian Gulf has become the sharpest catalyst for these sentiments. US Central Command said it had disabled two Iranian tankers and destroyed a third after the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps launched ballistic missiles at a US aircraft carrier and destroyer. Iran, in turn, reported attacks on tankers and vessels linked to the United States. Germany’s Tagesschau relays these statements cautiously, but the focus of the local debate is clearly broader than the question of who initiated the latest exchange of blows. For Germany, what matters more is that the conflict has entered a stage in which not only military infrastructure but also oil-carrying commercial shipping is becoming a target—that is, the very material foundation of the global economy.

This concern is layered on top of nearly seven months of German disappointment with America’s strategy toward Iran. ARD commentator Carsten Küntopp, in a blunt column for Tagesschau, stated the conclusion without diplomatic reservations: “The US has weakened itself in the war with Iran.” His argument is not simply a criticism of Trump: from the German perspective, the prolonged campaign has exposed the limits of American military power, depleted resources and simultaneously made Europe more vulnerable to an energy shock. In a similar vein, Deutsche Welle describes the American approach as a strategy of continually striking Iran’s newly emerging capabilities—a method that may contain the adversary tactically but offers no political way out.

Japan’s reaction is less moralizing and far more practical. In Tokyo, the current crisis is viewed through a narrow but vital passage—the Strait of Hormuz. Japanese media emphasize that Washington’s “tanker for tanker” formula is bringing the war to the level of directly affecting oil supplies. Forbes Japan writes about the first use of this approach and recalls that under normal conditions, roughly one-fifth of the world’s oil passes through Hormuz. For a country dependent on imported energy, this is not a distant Middle Eastern war but a threat to the cost of electricity, transportation and industrial production.

What distinguishes the Japanese debate is its linking of the military escalation to financial dependence on the United States. An analysis by the Japan Research Institute speaks of “dissonance” in the US-Japan political dialogue: Washington demands coordination on currency, fiscal and monetary policy, while Tokyo must respond simultaneously to rising domestic yields and external risks. Economist Nobuhiko Kiuchi, in an NRI column, notes that market expectations of changes in Japan’s economic policy under pressure from the Trump administration are already exerting a lasting influence on the yen’s exchange rate. In other words, the Japanese are concerned not only about tankers: American policy could first drive up the price of oil and then, through the dollar, bonds and investor expectations, limit the Bank of Japan’s room for maneuver.

South Africa sees the same American model of pressure, but in an even more explicit trade-and-political form. In Pretoria, President Trump’s decision to extend the African Growth and Opportunity Act—the program providing duty-free access for African goods to the US market—was met with relief, but not confidence. As South Africa’s Business Day notes, the country had sought a 15-year extension but received only two years; at the same time, its eligibility to remain an AGOA participant after 2027 is still not guaranteed. For exporters, this means that a formally positive decision does not provide the main thing: a planning horizon for investment, production and jobs.

This produces a particularly revealing contrast. Germany and Japan—long-standing US allies—fear that American power is being used without a clear strategy and that the costs are being shifted onto partners. South Africa, which is not part of the US alliance system, fears something else: that trade preferences are becoming a reward for political compliance. In an article for The National, Rasygan Maharaj, a professor of public management at Tshwane University of Technology, urges the country to accelerate industrialization and seek more reliable partners. Noluthando Phungula, an international-relations expert at the University of KwaZulu-Natal, in turn, speaks of the need to diversify both currency and market ties. This is not a call to immediately sever relations with Washington: South Africa’s trade with the United States is incomparably more important than its limited dealings with Iran. But it is a local acknowledgment that dependence on a single market makes foreign policy vulnerable.

It is precisely the issue of Iran that connects South Africa’s military and economic concerns. The American sanctions campaign targets not only Tehran but also its financial and commercial links around the world. For Pretoria, this creates an unpleasant dilemma: maintain its traditional “Global South” rhetoric and opposition to unilateral US actions, or minimize the risk to exports to America. At the sharper end of the debate, South African columnist Iqbal Jassat, in his column, calls on BRICS to publicly condemn Washington’s “illegal military aggression.” This position does not encompass all South African opinion, but it is significant: for a sizable segment of the local political environment, the American strikes are not merely a dangerous escalation but a test of whether BRICS can be something more than an economic club.

The most unexpected common theme in all three countries is not anti-Americanism as such. Neither Berlin, nor Tokyo, nor Pretoria is proposing to abandon relations with the United States. On the contrary, all three societies recognize that America is too important—for security, sea routes, trade, technology and finance. But that is precisely why another demand is being voiced more and more often: the United States should be a predictable center of power, not a country that simultaneously wages a war for control of shipping, threatens partners with secondary sanctions and keeps trade preferences on a short political leash.

The German formula is that America is losing strategic power because it cannot turn military superiority into a political outcome. The Japanese formula is that American crises instantly become the price of oil, the exchange rate of the yen and a problem for the national budget. The South African formula is that economic partnership with Washington is necessary, but increasingly resembles not a stable rule but a conditional contract. Taken together, these reactions paint a picture of the United States as a country whose influence remains enormous, but whose reliability is increasingly becoming a subject of international dispute.

❮ ❯

The United States at the Center of Global Tensions

Russian and Brazilian sources analyze how Washington’s actions are intensifying international instability—from threats of escalation around Iran and military operations at sea to migration pressure, deportation agreements with Guyana, and disputes over U.S. border policies. Against this backdrop, U.S. allies and partners are reassessing their diplomatic, financial, and regional ties with Washington, while its influence over the G20, NATO, and relations with the Vatican is becoming a source of growing disagreement. The material is based on publications by prospect.com.ru (Russia) and www.instagram.com (Brazil).

Moscow Says It Is Ready to Discuss U.S. Ideas on Ukraine

The United States has proposed a number of ideas for resolving the conflict in Ukraine, while Russian President Vladimir Putin conveyed “comprehensive assessments” of the situation in the combat zone to American representatives. This was stated by Russian presidential aide Yuri Ushakov, as reported by Prospect.com.ru.

The Russian side presents these contacts as evidence of Moscow’s willingness to discuss diplomatic options. At the same time, it emphasizes that any potential agreement, in its view, must address the so-called “root causes” of the conflict and Russia’s security demands. The published reports do not disclose the specific content of the U.S. initiatives or provide details about the possible parameters of future agreements.

Ushakov also said that Kyiv and European countries “are counting on prolonging the conflict.” This assessment reflects the Kremlin’s frequently stated position that the European Union is interested not in ending the war as quickly as possible, but in continuing it. Russian official statements often accuse the EU of supporting the armed confrontation, expanding military assistance to Ukraine, and obstructing direct dialogue between Moscow and Washington.

At the same time, the United States occupies an ambiguous position in the Russian interpretation. On the one hand, it is regarded as a key participant without whom a settlement is impossible; on the other, it is seen as a country acting primarily in its own interests. Rodion Miroshnik, Russia’s ambassador-at-large, for example, links American involvement in the talks not to the role of a neutral mediator but to Washington’s calculations.

Moscow consistently rejects the option of a simple ceasefire or a “freeze” of the conflict along the line of contact. Russian authorities believe that such a scenario would not eliminate the causes of the confrontation and would merely give Ukraine time to recover and rearm. Official Russian rhetoric identifies Ukraine’s relations with NATO, the scale of Western military support for Kyiv, security guarantees, and the status of the Russian-speaking population among the issues of principle for Moscow.

Thus, the Russian position is that negotiations should not be limited to a temporary truce. Moscow insists on a political settlement that would take into account its assessment of the outcome of the hostilities and, in the view of Russian authorities, create long-term guarantees against the emergence of new threats.

The publication by Prospect.com.ru is based primarily on statements by Russian officials and does not contain a detailed description of the American proposals, Kyiv’s position, or independent assessments of the negotiating process. As a result, the central message remains the Kremlin’s: Russia says it is ready for dialogue, but links the prospects for peace to the fulfillment of conditions it considers necessary for its own security.

UN Supports Call for a Fairer Depiction of the World

The UN General Assembly approved an initiative intended to draw attention to historical distortions in commonly used world maps. The campaign, promoted by Togo and other African countries, was supported by 164 states; the United States was the only country to vote against it. In a Brazilian publication by Rádio Sucesso FM, the decision is viewed not only as a technical cartographic issue but also as a symbolic step in the struggle against global inequality and the underestimation of countries in the Global South.

As Rádio Sucesso FM notes, widely used map projections often create the impression that Africa, South America, and South Asia are considerably smaller than they really are. For decades, such images have shaped a visual hierarchy of the world in which Europe and North America appear disproportionately large and central, while countries in the Southern Hemisphere seem peripheral.

The publication emphasizes that maps are not a neutral tool. In its view, the debate surrounding the UN decision “revives the debate about how maps can influence perceptions of the size, importance, and position of continents.” In other words, the issue is not simply the choice of a convenient projection, but the way in which visual representations of the planet shape people’s understanding of the political, economic, and cultural weight of different regions.

For Brazil, this issue is particularly important. The country is the largest in Latin America in both territory and economy, possesses vast natural resources, and plays a significant role in discussions on climate, food security, development, and reform of international institutions. Yet South America often appears smaller than it really is on familiar maps, which can reinforce the perception of the region as secondary to North America and Europe.

The “Corrija o mapa” campaign—“Correct the Map”—is presented as an effort to create a fairer picture of the world for regions historically undervalued by Western-centered cartography. In this context, more accurate depictions of Africa, South America, and South Asia become an issue of dignity, visibility, and recognition of their actual scale.

Although the material contains no statements from Brazilian politicians or experts, its editorial emphasis reflects an agenda important to Brazil and other countries of the Global South: sovereignty, multipolarity, and the need for developing states to have greater influence in international governance. The contrast between the initiative’s support by 164 countries and the U.S. opposition is also presented as evidence of a divergence between the majority of the international community and a country that has traditionally wielded exceptional influence in politics, the economy, culture, and the formation of perceptions of the world.

Thus, the discussion of maps at the UN takes on a broader meaning. It concerns who determines the visual language of the planet and why familiar images can reinforce outdated notions of center and periphery. For Brazil and other countries of the Global South, correcting the map means not only achieving greater geographic accuracy but also demanding a fairer place in global political and public consciousness.

❮ ❯

America as Negotiator, Creditor and Source of Risk: What They Are Saying About the US in Riyadh, Kyiv...

In the first days of September 2026, the image of the United States in Saudi Arabia, Ukraine and Brazil is taking shape not around a single news story but around a shared perception: Washington still has the power to change the rules of the game, but is increasingly doing so through the language of urgent deals, tariffs and personal arrangements rather than durable commitments. In Kyiv, this is discussed through the lens of future negotiations with Russia, security guarantees and access to American weapons. In Riyadh, it is viewed through the consequences of the US–Iran war for the security of the Persian Gulf and shipping in the Strait of Hormuz. In Brasília, the focus is tariff pressure, the dispute over the national payment system Pix, and suspicions that Washington’s trade arguments are intertwined with domestic Brazilian politics.

The most prominent common theme is the transformation of American foreign policy into an exchange of specific assets and concessions. Ukrainian analyst Oleksandr Kraiev, head of the North American program at the Ukrainian Prism, describes this new logic in especially stark terms in a column for Ukrainska Pravda: Moscow can offer Washington energy resources and geopolitical benefits, while Kyiv can offer war-tested technologies and production expertise in the drone sector. In his assessment, this creates practical interdependence but does not signify strategic closeness: Ukraine is becoming more useful to the Trump administration, but that does not automatically make it more secure. (pravda.com.ua)

This point is particularly important against the backdrop of reports on September 3 about planned visits by Donald Trump’s representatives Steve Witkoff and Jared Kushner to Moscow and Kyiv. Volodymyr Zelensky emphasized that US involvement in the negotiating process is “very important” and that Kyiv expects a substantive meeting in the coming days. Ukrainska Pravda’s report reflects Ukraine’s ambivalent mood: America remains an indispensable participant in the process, but the very form of its mediation is causing concern, as Ukraine fears that Washington may value the speed of reaching a deal more than its durability. (pravda.com.ua)

In Brazil, the same transactional style is perceived not as diplomatic uncertainty but as direct pressure on sovereignty. US tariffs on Brazilian goods reach 37.5% in some cases; Washington links the measures to complaints regarding Pix, ethanol and efforts to combat imports of products made using forced labor. During a phone call on August 21, President Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva called the grounds for the tariffs “unfounded,” although the two sides formally agreed to continue negotiations. Folha de S.Paulo reports on this in detail. (www1.folha.uol.com.br)

But Brazil’s reaction goes far beyond a dispute over tariff rates. For the country, Pix is not merely an instant-transfer service but a symbol of the state’s ability to create mass digital infrastructure independent of American card networks. As a result, the USTR investigation is viewed in the local debate as an attempt to portray a successful public technology as a trade violation. Brazilians see here the same formula that Ukrainians observe in discussions of drones, minerals and air defense: the United States wants the value offered by a partner country to be incorporated into American interests on American terms. At the same time, Lula is not choosing a path of rupture: on August 25, the countries scheduled a new meeting on tariffs, while Brazilian officials and industrialists considered even the resumption of dialogue useful, albeit without high expectations of immediate results. (www1.folha.uol.com.br)

The Saudi perspective adds the question of physical security to this economic and military-technical bargaining. In the local Arabic-language press, the United States is discussed primarily through the war with Iran, attacks on regional infrastructure and the fate of the Strait of Hormuz. In a commentary by the Saudi newspaper Okaz, published on August 26, the main focus is not on who will gain a diplomatic advantage but on the inadmissibility of turning an international strait into an instrument of blackmail. The author insists that Iran cannot claim exclusive control over Hormuz, since freedom of passage there is guaranteed by international law and is critical to the global economy. (okaz.com.sa)

For Riyadh, this is not an abstract legal dispute. Saudi Arabia’s official response to the June US–Iran agreement welcomed the cessation of hostilities but simultaneously called for the restoration of maritime security and for the security interests of the region’s states to be taken into account. In an Okaz publication, this position is framed as a desire for lasting peace rather than a short pause between escalations. (okaz.com.sa) The Saudi view is notable because it amounts neither to support for nor condemnation of the United States: Washington is needed as a military power and negotiator, but an American operation could itself make the kingdom a target for retaliatory strikes. Hence Riyadh’s desire to be not a staging ground for someone else’s war but an independent mediator and guarantor of regional de-escalation.

This brings Saudi Arabia closer to Ukraine than might initially appear. Kyiv fears a peace imposed for the sake of a political result in Washington; Riyadh fears a military campaign whose consequences will remain on its territory, even if the decision to launch it was made overseas. The difference lies only in the scale of the threat: for Ukraine, the price of a mistake is territorial integrity and the survival of the state; for Saudi Arabia, it is the security of its oil infrastructure, maritime trade and entire economic transformation model. In both cases, local commentators are demanding not a dramatic gesture from the United States but predictability.

In Brazil, distrust of Washington’s predictability is further colored by historical memories of US interference in Latin American affairs. Researcher Lucas de Souza Martins says in an interview with Folha that the Trump administration views Brazil through an “ideological, partisan-political lens” rather than through the prism of the long-term national interest of the United States. He warns that such a policy creates the impression that America is an unreliable partner, and that the natural response will be to seek support in Europe and Asia. (www1.folha.uol.com.br)

The most unexpected common feature of these three reactions is that none of the countries is building its strategy around the simple formula of being “for America” or “against America.” Ukraine is trying to turn its own technologies and military experience into an argument that Washington cannot ignore. Saudi Arabia seeks to keep the United States within the regional security architecture while preventing the American confrontation with Iran from dictating its own choices. Brazil is resisting tariffs and the politicization of trade but continues negotiations because the American market remains too important. In all three capitals, the United States is seen not as a departing superpower but as a power with which it is becoming increasingly difficult to deal according to the old rules: it remains necessary, but requires ever more careful safeguards against its own unpredictability.

❮ ❯

America as a Source of Risk: China, Israel and France Debate the Cost of US Policy

By early September 2026, the United States had become the central subject of international debate for three interconnected reasons: the resumption of strikes on Iran and the crisis surrounding the Strait of Hormuz, Washington’s attempt to extend its economic blockade of Tehran to third countries, and the increasingly explicit use of trade pressure even in relations with allies. In China, Israel and France, these developments are viewed through different national interests, yet the conclusion is increasingly the same: American power remains immense, but its use has become less predictable, more transactional and therefore itself a source of instability.

The most acute issue is the American campaign against Iran. Following US strikes on Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps facilities near the Strait of Hormuz on September 1, the conflict once again moved from a phase of sanctions and maritime pressure into a military one. China’s reaction is deliberately not limited to defending Iran as a partner. From Beijing’s perspective, this is an example of how Washington first unilaterally declares the rules and then punishes anyone unwilling to comply with them. In an article by China.com on the new round of strikes, the central question is framed not as “Will the United States win?” but as “Why did hostilities resume after a month?” The authors point to the gap between American statements expressing readiness for an agreement and the practice of using force.

China views secondary sanctions even more harshly—measures targeting companies and banks in third countries that trade with an already-sanctioned state. Commentator Leshui, writing in China Review, called the American threat of secondary sanctions “a tangled bill”: according to this logic, Washington demands Iran’s isolation but offers the world neither a workable diplomatic exit nor protection from an energy shock. Beijing’s official position is even more direct. On September 3, Chinese Commerce Ministry representative Huang Ling said that the United States was “grossly interfering” in other countries’ normal economic ties and undermining the security of global energy supplies; her statement was published by The Paper. For Chinese audiences, American policy toward Iran is not a regional operation but a warning to every country whose companies depend on the dollar, marine shipping insurance and access to the US market.

France views the same events differently: there is less sympathy for the Iranian regime here, but much more skepticism toward the American strategy. Pascal Boniface, director of the Institute for International and Strategic Relations (IRIS), writes in a September column that Donald Trump’s initial military gamble failed, while the negotiating track also reached an impasse. After two wars—in June 2025 and February 2026—Tehran was given an incentive to raise the price of any agreement. French concerns have less to do with America failing to act forcefully enough than with its acting without a political resolution. In a Le Monde analysis, Washington’s new policy of economically “strangling” Iran is described as a substitute for the military solution the White House failed to achieve. French commentators particularly emphasize the risk that sanctions may inflict enormous damage on Iran without necessarily forcing its authorities to capitulate, while the oil market and maritime trade are already paying the price of uncertainty.

In Israel, the debate is far more painful because it concerns the country’s immediate security. There is no unified enthusiasm here either for American restraint or, conversely, for American intervention. The pro-American side of Israeli commentary fears that, by trying to avoid a major war, Washington is giving Tehran time to rebuild its military and nuclear infrastructure. In a Ynet column, journalist Ben-Dror Yemini called the formula “quiet in exchange for quiet” a de facto concession to Iran and compared the risk of excessive appeasement to a “Chamberlain-like” approach. His logic is straightforward: if Trump’s threats are not accompanied by consistent action, Iran and its allies will test the limits of American power.

But another Israeli line of reasoning is almost the opposite. Eldad Shavit, a former senior military intelligence and Mossad official and a senior researcher at the Institute for National Security Studies (INSS), warns in Ynet that a political narrative is already taking shape in the United States: Israel is supposedly dragging America into a broad war with Iran without a clear exit strategy. For Israel, this is dangerous regardless of whether the narrative is fair. In American politics, Shavit notes, once a storyline takes hold, it is difficult to dislodge with facts. This creates a paradoxical Israeli response: the country needs American military support and firm deterrence against Iran, but at the same time fears becoming too costly an ally for Washington.

The second common theme is the transformation of the economy into an instrument of geopolitical coercion. China sees this in US sanctions against Chinese companies allegedly linked to Iranian trade, as well as in the attempt to use the G20 as a platform for pressuring Beijing. After the meeting of G20 finance ministers and central bank chiefs in Asheville, United States, China was the only country not to agree to language concerning “non-market policies” and excessive export dependence. China’s Commerce Ministry said that talk of “imbalances” and “overcapacity” served as a cover for protectionism; the statement was published here. In a commentary by Yuyuan Tantian, the American position is described as an attempt to turn a multilateral organization into a mechanism for directing accusations at one state, while avoiding discussion of the role of the dollar, financial flows and the US deficit in global imbalances.

The French reaction to America’s economic policy mirrors China’s in emotional terms, though not in terms of the target of pressure. Paris and French analysts do not argue with Washington over China’s model in the same way Beijing does; they are concerned that Europe has already found itself in the position of a party making concessions in order to preserve access to the American market. Boniface calls the trade agreement imposing a 15 percent tariff on European exports “unequal and humiliating.” This tariff regime is combined with the opening of the European market to American industrial goods and commitments to purchase products in the United States. Even after the agreement was approved by the European Parliament, the French press continues to interpret it as evidence of asymmetry: a Le Monde analysis explicitly notes that European concessions were significantly broader than American ones.

Israel’s economic debate is less ideological but no less alarming. The United States remains not merely a partner there, but the main financial reference point. Rising yields on US government bonds, expensive oil due to the situation around Hormuz, and the threat of a new inflationary surge are immediately reflected in the Israeli market. Globes describes the rise in oil prices and US yields as the main backdrop to Wall Street’s decline, while on September 3 Calcalist reported oil at around $95 a barrel and the yield on 10-year US Treasury bonds at 4.77 percent. Israeli authors do not accuse the United States of protectionism in the way Chinese commentators do, nor do they speak of a “vassal” Europe, as some French columnists do. But they see the same reality: Washington’s decisions on war, debt and interest rates have become domestic economic factors for Israel.

The most unexpected common theme is not talk of America’s decline, but doubts about the United States’ ability to turn power into a sustainable order. Chinese commentators want to show that American unilateralism is undermining international institutions. French commentators argue that Washington is turning alliances into commercial transactions in which protection, markets and loyalty all come at a price. Israeli commentators warn that US inconsistency may prove more dangerous than either excessive escalation or premature reconciliation.

That is why Beijing, Paris and Jerusalem are now discussing not only Trump, Iran or tariffs. They are discussing a new American formula of power: the United States can still strike, impose sanctions, shut off markets and redirect capital flows, but it is finding it increasingly difficult to convince others that each such step is part of a strategy that will make the world—and America itself—safer.

❮ ❯

America as a Source of Risk and an Indispensable Mediator: What Ukraine, India and Germany Are...

By September 4, 2026, the image of the United States in Ukrainian, Indian and German debates had split in an unusual way. Washington is simultaneously seen as the only power capable of moving the most dangerous conflicts off dead center and as a country whose impulsive decisions create new crises—from Ukraine to the Persian Gulf. Shared concern does not mean identical conclusions. Ukraine is primarily trying not to become a bargaining chip; India is defending its right to talk to those whom the United States wants to isolate; and Germany is increasingly discussing how to live in a world where American power no longer guarantees either predictability or order.

The most urgent issue for Kyiv is the expected visits by Steve Witkoff and Jared Kushner to Moscow and Kyiv this coming weekend. Donald Trump said his representatives were carrying a “proposal to end the war,” while Volodymyr Zelenskyy confirmed that he was ready to receive them after their talks in Moscow. In the Ukrainian information space, it is not so much the formula of the proposal—which has not yet been published—that matters, but the sequence of events itself: traveling first to Moscow and then to Kyiv is read as a reminder that the United States still claims the role of chief negotiator. Ukrainska Pravda also records Kyiv’s cautious response: Zelenskyy said Ukraine would not conduct airstrikes during the Americans’ visit and expected a symmetrical step from Russia. (pravda.com.ua)

However, Ukraine’s reaction is not limited to hope for a diplomatic breakthrough. Political analyst and head of the Center for Analysis and Strategies Ihor Chalenko, in a comment to the OstroV outlet, offers an interpretation characteristic of Kyiv: Trump has a “short window” before the midterm congressional elections, and he could present even a temporary ceasefire as his own achievement. This is not an accusation of insincerity, but an attempt to understand American motivations through the lens of the domestic political calendar. For Ukraine, it is crucial whether the peace initiative is designed for lasting security or for a quick television result. (ostro.org)

This leads to the Ukrainian paradox: the country needs American involvement, but fears precisely the form of involvement in which speed becomes more important than the terms. Ukrainian analyst Oleksandr Kraiev of the Ukrainian Prism explained the improvement in relations between Kyiv and Trump pragmatically in an interview with Deutsche Welle: Ukraine has become more attractive to the White House because it demonstrates a willingness to cooperate, whereas Russia, in his assessment, is sabotaging normal diplomacy. This view does not romanticize the United States: Kyiv has to prove its usefulness to Washington—in military cooperation, sanctions pressure and the broader security architecture. (amp.dw.com)

The Indian conversation about America these days revolves around a very different boundary of what is permissible—the right of New Delhi to “strategic autonomy.” After Narendra Modi met Iranian President Masoud Pezeshkian at the SCO summit in Bishkek, U.S. Secretary of State Marco Rubio warned that countries helping Tehran circumvent sanctions could themselves face American sanctions. But he also acknowledged India’s right to shape its foreign policy independently. In an analysis by The Indian Express, this duality is conveyed particularly clearly: Washington is not directly accusing India of violating the sanctions regime, but is conspicuously drawing a red line after Modi’s contact with Pezeshkian. (indianexpress.com)

For Indian audiences, this is not merely a dispute over Iran. It is a test of the entire model of relations with the United States: can India simultaneously develop technological, defense and trade cooperation with America, talk to Iran, maintain channels with Russia, and avoid becoming an appendage of anyone’s coalition? The Indian media outlet The Lallantop emphasizes that Tehran expects India to play a diplomatic role in reducing tensions in the Middle East. This is an important local nuance: in the Indian interpretation, contact with Iran is not necessarily economic defiance of the United States, but a potential mediating role for a power capable of speaking to all sides. (thelallantop.com)

The contrast with the official, business-oriented rhetoric about partnership is all the more striking. This week, U.S. Ambassador to India Sergio Gor described bilateral ties as being at “historic highs” and spoke of “fair, reciprocal and mutually beneficial” trade relations, inviting Indian companies to expand investment in American manufacturing, research and distribution. In an Economic Times report, the formula sounds almost like a proposed deal: India receives access to American technology and markets, while the United States gets Indian capital and a broader market for its companies. (m.economictimes.com) But the Indian reaction shows that partnership is welcomed as long as it does not require coordinating every diplomatic gesture with Washington in advance.

Germany views the same America through the prism of lost strategic confidence. In the German debate, the loudest question is not “who is right” in the latest American crisis, but what price Europe is paying for the American style of politics. ARD commentator Carsten Küntopp writes in an article for Tagesschau that the U.S. war with Iran has weakened America itself, while its consequences extend far beyond the Persian Gulf and affect Europe. His argument is not a pacifist rejection of force as such, but a criticism of a policy in which military operations are not accompanied by a viable political strategy. (tagesschau.de)

This idea is also developed in a Handelsblatt commentary: Jens Münchrath believes that the protracted conflict in Iran ultimately strengthens China—the very power Trump is trying to contain. The German criticism is pragmatic in its own way: if the United States becomes bogged down in Iran, it spends resources and political attention, while Beijing, Moscow and regional actors benefit by exploiting the gap between American statements and capabilities. (handelsblatt.com)

For Germany, this is directly connected to Ukraine. An ARD-DeutschlandTrend poll published on September 3 found that 56% of Germans consider the country’s security to be strongly or very strongly threatened by Russia. Tagesschau thus captures the public mood in which any American attempt to reach a quick agreement with Moscow causes not relief, but demands that Europe have its own voice and its own security guarantees. (tagesschau.de) It is no coincidence that German debates about a peace agreement repeatedly return to the argument that European security cannot be discussed without Europe, and that lasting peace is impossible without guarantees for Ukraine. (amp.dw.com)

The most unexpected common thread between Kyiv, New Delhi and Berlin is that none of them considers the United States unimportant. On the contrary, America remains too significant simply to distance themselves from it. But local expectations differ. Ukraine wants American mediation not to turn its sovereignty into a bargaining chip. India wants partnership without the discipline imposed on a junior ally. Germany wants its alliance with the United States not to mean strategic dependence on decisions Europe cannot control.

That is why today’s international reaction to Washington is not simply a wave of anti-Americanism. It is a demand that the United States be not only strong, but also predictable; not only capable of initiating negotiations or applying pressure, but also ready to take responsibility for the consequences. For Ukraine, the price of that responsibility is measured in borders and lives. For India, it is measured in freedom of diplomatic maneuver. For Germany, it is measured in Europe’s ability not to become a spectator in matters of its own security.

❮ ❯

America as an Indispensable but Unreliable Power

By early September 2026, the United States had simultaneously become the main source of hope, anxiety, and strategic dependence for Saudi Arabia, Israel, and Russia. Local discussions are no longer focused simply on “American influence,” but on a far more troubling question: can the administration in Washington bring to completion the wars, negotiations, and promises that it itself sets in motion? The most widely discussed issues have been the American confrontation with Iran and the security of shipping through the Strait of Hormuz, the US attempt to shape Gaza’s postwar order, and the renewed—though extremely vague—diplomacy between Moscow, Washington, and Kyiv.

In Saudi and, more broadly, Arab expert circles, America is viewed primarily through the prism of the war with Iran. The main dispute is not over US military power as such, but over the political price of using it. An article by the Al Jazeera Centre for Studies describes American strikes as actions capable of temporarily destroying missiles, bases, or air-defense elements, but not of creating a stable order in the Persian Gulf. This is a crucial local qualification: for Riyadh, security is not a spectacular operation, but predictable shipping, the protection of energy infrastructure, and the absence of missile strikes against neighboring states.

The American policy toward the Strait of Hormuz was discussed with particular concern. Arab analysts noted that Washington initially linked protection of the maritime route to the idea of a 20 percent levy on passing cargoes, then quickly abandoned it in favor of investment and trade agreements with Gulf states. In the local interpretation, this looks less like a carefully designed architecture of collective security than an expression of America’s transactional approach: the protection of an ally is increasingly presented as a service with a political or economic bill attached. A study by the Middle East Council on Global Affairs puts the conclusion more bluntly: the war demonstrated the vulnerability of the Gulf Cooperation Council states’ civilian infrastructure and the limited reliability of the American “umbrella.”

Yet in Saudi Arabia this does not translate into calls to break the alliance with the United States. On the contrary, the local logic is that there is no alternative to American technology, intelligence capabilities, and military presence, but dependence on them must be hedged through regional air defense, independent diplomatic channels, and economic maneuvering. Saudi reactions to America are therefore ambivalent: Washington remains an indispensable partner, but is no longer considered a partner to whom the management of risks can be handed over unconditionally.

In Israel, the same American style produces a different emotion—not fear of being left without protection, but fear of losing freedom of action. Israeli commentators increasingly speak of Washington not as an ally helping to wage a war, but as a power defining its boundaries. Military analyst Michael Milshtein wrote in a column for Ynet that the public dispute over turning Israel into an American “client state” overlooks a historical fact: the United States has stopped Israel before, but its current involvement is different in depth—Washington is claiming not merely the right to issue instructions, but a presence in the very mechanism for controlling Gaza and enforcing a ceasefire.

This also explains Israeli skepticism toward high-profile American statements about agreements. In an article published on September 4, “Agreements Without Backing”, commentator Doron Hader suggests that the arrangements concerning Gaza, Iran, and Lebanon should be called what they are in practice: not peace deals, but ceasefires. This semantic correction matters. The Israeli debate does not deny the usefulness of American pressure on Iran or mediation in Gaza; it questions whether the White House has managed to turn a series of pauses into a stable order. In the same publication, expert Eldad Shavit makes the criticism of President Trump even more directly: he understands how to pressure Tehran, but does not explain what the political end state of that pressure should be.

The paradox is that some Israeli writers simultaneously demand greater US involvement and fear it. An August review of the situation in Gaza describes the American project for Gaza’s future almost ironically—as a dream of a “green Gaza”—while Israel is forced to balance between Trump’s demands and its own right-wing electorate. The Saudi perspective is sharply different here: for Riyadh, an American postwar arrangement for Gaza makes sense only as part of a regional formula that includes a Palestinian political horizon and conditions for normalization. For Israel’s right-wing camp, such a formula looks above all like a restriction on sovereignty and military initiative.

Russia’s reaction to the United States in recent days has been less emotional, but even more instrumental. Moscow is not concerned with whether America will return to dialogue on Ukraine, but with whether it will bring to the negotiations not a media gesture, but acceptable terms. On August 28, Kremlin spokesman Dmitry Peskov said that the negotiating process was “on pause” and that there were no new ideas, stressing that Ukraine knew Russia’s demands, Kommersant reported. Deputy Foreign Minister Sergei Ryabkov, meanwhile, confirmed Moscow’s readiness to discuss American initiatives, but only if its “fundamental positions” were taken into account, according to his comment.

From this Russian perspective, the United States is still essential as the only power capable of exerting real influence on Kyiv and its European allies, but there is no confidence in its consistency. Fyodor Lukyanov, editor-in-chief of the journal Russia in Global Affairs, commenting on possible undisclosed contacts, said that given the situation at the front, this was “not the moment for negotiations”; his words were quoted by Kommersant. This reflects a widespread view in Russia: diplomacy with Washington is possible, but Washington itself is too preoccupied with Iran, the Middle East, and domestic political disputes to guarantee the implementation of even its own proposals.

This is where the three very different countries converge. Saudi Arabia sees America as a military guarantor that can create a threat and then offer protection from it. Israel sees it as the only ally whose support is simultaneously becoming a constraint. Russia sees it as an indispensable negotiator whose signals must be tested not through statements, but through concrete concessions and enforcement mechanisms. American power has not disappeared—quite the opposite: it is precisely that power that makes the United States a central participant in all these crises. But local reactions point to a deeper change: Washington is no longer viewed as the architect of final solutions. It is seen as a force without which nothing begins, but which has yet to prove that it can reliably finish what it starts.

❮ ❯

Japan on the Price of American Power

Japanese media are discussing the consequences that the United States’ coercive policies could have for the world and the economy. Against the backdrop of the conflict with Iran and mounting sanctions pressure, particular attention is being paid to rising fuel prices, the strategic role of Venezuela’s heavy crude oil, and the risk that excessive use of dollar sanctions could accelerate countries’ shift away from the American currency. In this way, the military and energy agenda is becoming part of a broader debate about the limits of Washington’s influence and the price of its decisions. This material is based on publications by Vietnam.vn and Asahi Shimbun (Japan).

Japan Sees Economic Risks in Fuel Prices and Dollar Sanctions

Rising diesel prices in the United States and the expansion of American sanctions against Iran are being viewed by Japanese observers as interconnected signals of instability in the global economy. For a country heavily dependent on energy imports, maritime trade, and the dollar-based financial system, tensions in the oil market and the use of currency settlements as an instrument of pressure could quickly affect transportation, food, manufacturing, and household costs.

According to a report on the situation in the US diesel market, on September 2, the US diesel refining margin reached a historic high of $108.02 per barrel. The record was set amid concerns about a supply shortage, while market anxiety persisted even after official data showed a slight increase in domestic diesel inventories.

Experts at consulting firm Lipow Oil Associates call diesel “a key fuel for road transportation, agriculture, and industrial production.” Its rising cost, they warn, increases transportation expenses and quickly spreads throughout the entire economic chain, ultimately affecting food prices.

For Japan, this is not merely a story about the US market. The country depends on imports of oil, liquefied natural gas, and other energy resources, meaning that supply disruptions abroad, insufficient refining capacity, or interruptions to maritime logistics could drive up fuel prices domestically as well. Higher costs could then affect freight transportation, agriculture, industry, electricity and gas rates, and eventually consumer prices.

This scenario becomes particularly painful when the yen weakens: higher dollar-denominated prices for oil and petroleum products then increase import costs even more when converted into the Japanese currency. A diesel shortage in the United States could intensify international competition for petroleum products, creating additional pressure on Japanese companies’ expenses. This echoes recent experience, when expensive energy already led to higher utility rates, transportation costs, and retail prices.

Against this backdrop, the Japanese press is also focusing on another source of global uncertainty: Washington’s sanctions policy. In an analytical Asahi Shimbun column, the dollar is presented as America’s most important instrument for pressuring its adversaries, but also as a potential source of long-term risks for the global financial system itself.

The publication was prompted by the strengthening of measures against Iran amid a deadlock in military operations and diplomatic efforts. Presenting additional restrictions on August 24, US Treasury Secretary Bessent declared: “There is no one beyond the reach of American sanctions.” Washington is signaling that countries and companies continuing to do business with Iran could be cut off from financial infrastructure based on dollar settlements.

The column’s author notes that the systematic use of the dollar as a sanctions tool intensified sharply after the terrorist attacks of September 11, 2001. The administration of George W. Bush then instructed government agencies to use all available means in the fight against terrorism, and the financial system became one of the key fronts of that policy. The particular strength of the United States lies in its ability to control critical nodes of the global economy: dollar payments, banking operations, and access to the international financial network.

However, according to Asahi Shimbun, this very strength is a “double-edged sword.” The more often the dollar system is used for coercion, the more likely it becomes that participants in global trade will seek ways to reduce their dependence on it. Possible alternatives include settlements in national currencies, regional payment mechanisms, gold, and central bank digital currencies.

For Japan, the issue is especially sensitive. Japanese companies, banks, insurers, shipping operators, and industrial groups are deeply integrated into the dollar system. The expansion of secondary sanctions could force businesses to make a difficult choice: comply with American restrictions or maintain ties with third countries. In Iran’s case, financial pressure is also linked to the risk of instability in the Middle East, a region that remains critically important for Japan’s energy supplies.

As the publication emphasizes, Japan’s concerns do not imply support for Iran or rejection of sanctions as a political instrument. The issue is trust in the dollar and the predictability of the rules governing global trade. If transactions in the American currency are increasingly perceived as politically vulnerable, a gradual shift away from the dollar could become more likely. Such a process would not necessarily be rapid, but it could reshape the financial environment on which Japan’s economy largely depends.

For Tokyo, this creates a dilemma. Japan is interested in preserving American leadership, the security of sea lanes, and the stability of the international order. But as an export-oriented and import-dependent economy, it also needs open markets, reliable logistics, and rules that do not change under the pressure of yet another geopolitical conflict.

The record diesel margin in the United States and the debate over the dollar’s use as a sanctions tool reveal one common problem: geopolitics is having an ever-deeper impact on everyday economic life. For Japan, this underscores the importance of strategic reserves, supplier diversification, resilient maritime logistics, energy conservation, and the development of renewable energy sources. At the same time, the country must recognize that instability in the global financial system and fuel markets can harm not only the adversaries of the United States, but its allies as well.

❮ ❯

America as Deal, Risk, and Indispensable Ally: What South Korea, South Africa, and Ukraine Now Think...

As of September 3, 2026, discussions about America in Seoul, Pretoria, and Kyiv are united not by a single event, but by a new sense of US unpredictability. Washington is simultaneously offering negotiations with adversaries, tying access to its market to investment inside the country, and scaling back its customary forms of international engagement. Yet in all three countries, this is provoking not an identical anti-American reaction, but a far more complicated question: how can they cooperate with a power on which their own security or economy still critically depends when that power is increasingly acting like a tough bilateral negotiator?

In South Korea, the most heated debate concerns the transformation of the alliance into an economic transaction. New US plans for tariffs on semiconductors are seen as more than a trade dispute: at stake is the foundation of Korea’s export model—Samsung and SK hynix, electronics supply chains, and investment in memory-chip production. As noted in an analysis by Ajou Economy, US Commerce Secretary Howard Lutnick stated the principle with utmost clarity: locate production in the United States and receive tariff relief; do not, and pay for access to the largest market. The Korean interpretation of this policy is that Washington is using not ordinary protectionism, but a “tax on the geography of production”: an ally is offered continued market access only at the price of moving part of its industrial base to America. (ajunews.com)

This explains Seoul’s unease over the Alaska LNG project, to which President Trump is once again inviting South Korea and Japan. In the local press, this is being read as package pressure: tariffs, investment in US plants, and participation in costly energy infrastructure are being placed in a single political basket. Professor Kim Sung-hyo, the author of an analysis in Weekly Donga, describes the situation as “all-out pressure” on Seoul: the threat now concerns not individual sectors, but the Korean stock market as a whole. In his account, Washington first secured promises of major investment in the United States in exchange for a lower tariff, and then gained additional leverage when implementation of those promises slowed. (weekly.donga.com)

For Korea, however, economic anxiety is inseparable from security. Trump’s attempts to renew direct dialogue with Kim Jong Un and the scaling back of some Ulchi Freedom Shield exercises are prompting a mixed reaction. On the one hand, easing tensions on the peninsula could support markets and open a path to diplomacy. On the other, Seoul fears that the US president could strike a symbolically impressive deal with Pyongyang without safeguarding Korean interests. Professor Park Won-gon of Ewha Womans University warns in a Yonhap article that without “ironclad” US–South Korean coordination, negotiations with the North could lead to Seoul’s effective exclusion from the process. This is the local meaning of the phrase Korea passing: not a rupture in the alliance, but the risk that decisions about Korea will be made without Korea. (yna.co.kr)

Ukraine’s reaction to America looks almost like a mirror image of Korea’s. Kyiv likewise fears diplomacy in which its fate is decided by great powers, but for Ukraine the cost of a mistake is measured not in investment and exports, but in territory, lives, and the stability of the front. Ukrainian media are interpreting Trump’s September 3 statement that he is ready to meet Vladimir Putin only when Putin is prepared to sign an agreement ending the war as a potentially tougher signal to the Kremlin. But there is little optimism in it: the same Ukrainska Pravda report emphasizes that on August 31, Volodymyr Zelenskyy cited intelligence indicating that Putin had no intention of ending the war. (pravda.com.ua)

Ukrainian public debate has therefore long developed a kind of immunity to Washington’s peacemaking rhetoric. Local analysts do not reject negotiations, but assess them by a practical criterion: do they lead to pressure on Russia, or to pressure on Ukraine for the sake of a quick deal? In a ZN.ua analysis, the cautious thaw between Trump and Zelenskyy is explained not by a change of mood, but by the fact that Russia’s intransigence and Ukraine’s military resilience have altered the White House’s political calculations. The main Ukrainian conclusion is almost cynical: America’s goodwill is not a constant; it must be reinforced by Ukraine’s own agency, battlefield results, and ability to offer the United States a workable strategy. (zn.ua)

South Africa views the same American transformation through a different lens—dignity, multipolarity, and the consequences of the United States abandoning its former role in the world. In Pretoria, irritation is caused not only by Washington’s tariff and diplomatic toughness, but also by the very logic through which it turns humanitarian aid, market access, and political recognition into instruments of punishment or reward. The winding down of US funding for HIV programs is especially painful: civil-society organizations warn that young women and girls are the first to be affected, while most programs are expected to end by late September. (apnews.com)

South African criticism, however, does not boil down to the slogan “America must pay.” Political philosopher Sarah Setlaelo formulates a deeper grievance in a Daily Maverick column: there is a shift “from cooperation to competition, from development to resource extraction, from multilateralism to transactionalism.” For a country that sees itself as a voice of the Global South and relies on BRICS, this is not merely a diplomatic change, but a test of its ability to act without paternalistic dependence on the West. (dailymaverick.co.za)

At the same time, South Africa’s reaction is noticeably more pragmatic than its sharp rhetoric. The new ambassador, Roelf Meyer, a veteran of the negotiations that ended apartheid, arrived in Washington not for an ideological confrontation, but with the task of rebuilding trust and expanding trade and investment. In an interview with Daily Maverick, he says that Pretoria still has friends among both Republicans and Democrats. This is an important local qualification to the widespread perception of South Africa as an unequivocally anti-American country: Pretoria’s elite is not seeking a break, but a more equal way to remain engaged with America. (dailymaverick.co.za)

The common thread among all three countries is not so much fear of American power as distrust of its inconsistency. For Ukraine, the United States remains an indispensable source of military and diplomatic support, but every American initiative is assessed for the risk of an imposed compromise with Moscow. For South Korea, the US alliance remains the foundation of deterrence against North Korea, yet it no longer guarantees protection from trade pressure and does not rule out Seoul being “bypassed” in negotiations with Pyongyang. For South Africa, America is still an important market, investor, and healthcare partner, but it is no longer seen as a reliable guardian of multilateral rules.

The most unexpected common feature of these reactions is the determination not to choose between submission and rupture. Kyiv is seeking influence over US strategy through its own resilience; Seoul is trying to turn dependence into coordination, without allowing trade concessions to replace security; Pretoria wants to respond to pressure by expanding ties with other centers of power rather than through isolation. In all three societies, America remains too powerful to ignore, but is now too transactional to simply trust.

❮ ❯

America as a Source of Risk: Why Seoul, Berlin and Kyiv Now Debate Not US Power, but Its Price

As of September 2, 2026, the attention of South Korea, Germany and Ukraine is focused less on the domestic twists and turns of American politics than on the consequences of two foreign-policy decisions by Washington: the renewed military escalation with Iran around the Strait of Hormuz and the United States’ closed-door contacts with Moscow over an alleged 28-point plan to end the war in Ukraine. At first glance, these are different stories—oil and tankers in the Persian Gulf, negotiations over territory and sanctions in Europe. Yet local debates converge on one point: America’s allies increasingly see Donald Trump’s administration as a power capable of rapidly using force or opening a negotiating channel, but far less predictable when it comes to who will ultimately pay for the strategic consequences.

The Iran issue is particularly acute in Seoul. For South Korea, Hormuz is not an abstract piece of Middle Eastern geography, but an artery on which energy imports, freight rates, export competitiveness and consumer sentiment depend. A review by the National Strategic Information Portal of the National Assembly Library of the Republic of Korea records that after a new exchange of strikes on August 30 and September 1, two tankers were attacked in the strait, including a vessel linked to the Korean company Chang Myung Shipping; shipping traffic fell sharply, while oil prices rose by approximately 5%. This turns the American operation from news about a distant war into a direct economic risk for South Korea. (nsp.nanet.go.kr)

The Korean reaction is practical and almost entirely devoid of ideological pathos. The question is framed not as “Should the United States contain Iran?” but as “Does Washington have a realistic way out of the conflict without disrupting transit and markets?” The official Korean review explicitly warns of the risk that recurring limited clashes could become entrenched—a state somewhere between peace and war. (nsp.nanet.go.kr) For a country whose industries are particularly sensitive to raw-material costs and maritime logistics, this is the worst-case scenario: not a one-off shock that can be offset with reserves, but a prolonged risk premium built into the price of oil, insurance and shipping.

But in Seoul, this concern has a second layer. The war with Iran is viewed as a factor capable of changing Trump’s priorities on the Korean Peninsula. In a Korea Economic Daily article, the reduced scale of the US–South Korean Ulchi Freedom Shield exercises is explained as an attempt by the White House to achieve quick diplomatic results with Pyongyang ahead of the US midterm elections in November. The author calls this a continuation of Trump’s “transactional” view of the alliance: security is assessed in terms of cost and the partner’s reciprocal contribution. (wsj.hankyung.com) Professor In Eul-chul of Kyungnam University’s Institute for Far Eastern Studies adds an uncomfortable detail for Washington: thanks to its military and economic rapprochement with Russia, as well as cooperation with China, North Korea now depends significantly less on diplomacy with the United States. (wsj.hankyung.com) In other words, the Korean perspective is that the American president may want a quick détente, but Pyongyang is no longer obliged to help him create such a picture of victory.

In Germany, the escalation with Iran provokes similar concern, but it is expressed in a different language—the language of strategic futility and Europe’s financial vulnerability. In a Deutsche Welle analysis, the American practice of regularly striking Iranian facilities as they are rebuilt is described as “mowing the lawn”: the adversary is not destroyed once and for all, but periodically weakened to an acceptable level. The problem, the article emphasizes, is that this model may not eliminate the threat but instead make the war self-sustaining: Tehran rebuilds its air defenses, radars, missiles and mine-laying capabilities, and the United States strikes again. Moreover, Mona Yacoubian, an expert at the Center for Strategic and International Studies, warns that continued attacks could push Iran to conclude that its only reliable means of deterrence is its own nuclear weapon. (amp.dw.com)

This is an important German perspective: Berlin does not dispute that the security of shipping in the Strait of Hormuz matters, but fears that Washington’s chosen method of ensuring it will produce precisely the kind of prolonged instability from which Europe suffers most. In a column for Südkurier, German commentator Christian Grimm links the Iran campaign to another American problem—public debt, inflation and high interest rates. His conclusion is blunt: the growth of US borrowing is already making credit more expensive for other countries, while military spending and high fuel prices increase the threat of renewed financial stress. (suedkurier.de) Behind this criticism lies more than irritation with Trump. Germany feels dependent on two American variables at once: American military power in the security sphere and American monetary and fiscal policy in the economy.

Ukraine’s reaction to the US conflict with Iran is even sharper, because Kyiv measures every new American commitment not only in oil, but also in air-defense missiles. In a column by Mykhailo Dubinyansky in Ukrainska Pravda, the war with Iran was described as a risk that American surface-to-air missiles could be diverted from Ukraine—a category of weapons that was already in chronically short supply there. (pravda.com.ua) Ukraine’s fear is not that the United States will lose interest in the war with Russia because of a single Middle Eastern crisis. It is deeper: Washington may remain involved in several conflicts at once, but begin allocating scarce resources according to the logic of an immediate American threat rather than the logic of Europe’s long-term security.

At the same time, Ukraine is trying not to reduce American policy to the simple formula “Trump is pro-Russian.” An analysis of the consequences of the Anchorage summit offers a more precise—and perhaps more troubling—idea: Trump is primarily “pro-Trump.” Ukraine may be valuable to him as a source of combat experience, drone technology, joint production and future commercial projects, but that usefulness does not equal security. The author puts it almost aphoristically: new interdependence with the United States makes Kyiv more valuable to Washington, “but not safer.” (pravda.com.ua)

That is why the renewed discussion of the 28-point peace plan is being received so nervously in Kyiv. According to Gazeta.ua, on September 1, US Treasury Secretary Scott Bessent discussed Trump’s plan with his Russian counterpart Anton Siluanov, while Ukrainian society followed the developments amid air-raid alerts and Russian strikes. The article highlights what matters most to the local mood: it is not the fact of negotiations itself that matters, but their outcome. The author sees a danger in Europe once again finding itself on the margins of the discussion, even though its own approach had been coordinated with Kyiv. (api.gazeta.ua)

Here, the German and Ukrainian reactions converge almost word for word. For Kyiv, negotiations without firm guarantees could create a pause in which Russia rearms. For Germany, they are dangerous because the United States may reach an agreement on European security in a format where Europe is present more as an object of the consequences than as a full-fledged participant. It is telling that, in the same Ukrainian article, Siluanov’s arrival at a meeting of G20 finance officials is called an “alarming signal,” while German Finance Minister Lars Klingbeil reportedly reacted especially sharply to his presence. (api.gazeta.ua)

The most unexpected feature of these three national debates is the absence of the familiar question of whether the United States will remain the leader of the West. Seoul, Berlin and Kyiv start from the assumption that America remains indispensable—as a military power, issuer of the world’s key reserve currency, provider of technology and security partner. The dispute is about something else: can a strategy be built around an ally that simultaneously protects sea routes and turns them into a war zone; promises negotiations while leaving their terms uncertain; demands greater contributions from its partners while making decisions capable of sharply increasing their risks?

South Korea is responding by trying to calculate the cost of American actions for tankers, oil and deterrence against North Korea. Germany is calling for reduced dependence on Washington’s political impulses without severing the transatlantic link. Ukraine is seeking to turn its military value to the United States into lasting security, rather than allowing it to become a bargaining chip in a larger deal. The common conclusion among local voices is not anti-American. It is far more complicated: Trump’s America remains necessary, but its allies are finding it increasingly difficult to regard it as predictable.

❮ ❯

America as a Source of Risk: Why Australia, France and Germany Are Increasingly Talking Not About...

In the final days of August and early September 2026, the United States has become a subject of discussion in Australia, France and Germany not because of a single high-profile statement by Donald Trump, but because of a cumulative effect: American foreign policy, trade measures and pressure on technology regulation are perceived as parts of one model. The ally remains indispensable, but at the same time looks like an unpredictable partner capable of turning security, market access or access to technology into a bargaining tool. Three interconnected themes stand out: new US tariffs, the protracted war with Iran and the dispute over European digital sovereignty.

Trade is the most tangible nerve of this debate. In Australia, irritation is caused not simply by the 12.5 percent US tariff on imports, but by its official justification: Washington linked it to allegedly insufficient action against goods produced using forced labor. Canberra rejects this argument as lacking a convincing evidentiary basis. In an ABC analysis, Prime Minister Anthony Albanese describes his conversation with Trump as “productive, constructive … and substantial,” but the diplomatic formula itself highlights the weakness of Australia’s position: a close military ally is forced not to negotiate as an equal, but to ask the White House merely to “consider” an exemption from the tariff regime.

Australia’s reaction is particularly revealing because it is not reducible to anti-Americanism. Albanese reminds Trump of decades of US trade surpluses with Australia and of the scale of Australian investment in the United States—in other words, he appeals to the logic of alliance and mutual benefit. But an ABC economic analysis reaches a different conclusion: the problem for exporters is not only the additional cost of entering the US market, but also the unpredictability of the rules. If a tariff can be quickly overturned by a Supreme Court decision and then almost immediately replaced through another legal mechanism, businesses cannot plan investments, supply chains or contracts. The US market remains important to Australia, but no longer appears institutionally reliable.

In France and Germany, the same process is viewed through a European lens. Paris and Berlin are dealing not with a bilateral exemption, but with US tariffs on EU goods and the consequences of an agreement that formally capped some tariffs without restoring the previous normality. France’s customs administration explicitly states that the additional rate for goods originating in the EU has been capped at 15 percent since August 1, 2025, while in 2026 the regime was adjusted again following US legal and political maneuvers. This is no longer a “trade dispute” in the traditional sense, but a constantly changing system of administrative pressure, described on the French customs website.

France’s distinctive feature is its political vocabulary. In Paris, the tariff concession to Washington is often assessed not only as the price of preventing a worse scenario, but also as a symptom of European dependence. When the previous tariff agreement was criticized in France as “soumission”—submission—it reflected a much broader concern: the United States is using the imbalance of power to force Europe to accept rules it did not choose. Germany speaks more cautiously, since its export industry is particularly sensitive to disruption in transatlantic trade. But a Bundesbank analysis clearly records German concerns: for Germany and the euro area, the main impact comes through weaker exports to the United States and increased uncertainty over trade policy. In Berlin, the question is less whether Trump is right than what this uncertainty will cost Germany’s industrial model.

The second common theme is the US war with Iran and its consequences for confidence in American leadership. Six months of conflict have changed the allies’ perspective. The issue is no longer whether to support a particular strike, but the fear of being drawn into a conflict whose objectives keep shifting—from promises to end the operation quickly to efforts to secure shipping in the Strait of Hormuz. The Associated Press notes that US priorities have noticeably shifted toward the Strait of Hormuz, which is especially painful for Europeans and Australians dependent on the stability of global energy supplies and maritime trade.

Australian commentators view the Iranian crisis primarily as a test of the limits of ANZUS and AUKUS. An ABC report on Canberra’s “red line” emphasized that political support for the US operation does not amount to a readiness to automatically commit military forces. This is where a rare shift in Australia’s tone becomes visible: a country accustomed to viewing the United States as the foundation of its own defense is trying to separate support for the alliance from participation in every American war. At the same time, its dependence has not disappeared. Albanese is simultaneously seeking a tariff exemption, discussing Iran and confirming that the AUKUS nuclear submarine program is moving “full steam ahead.” The result is a paradox: Canberra is seeking greater freedom of action precisely because it is so deeply integrated into US strategy.

In France and Germany, the Iran issue intensifies the longstanding debate over Europe’s strategic autonomy. The French view is the sharpest: Europe is discovering that it pays for and experiences the consequences of American decisions alongside the United States, but has no real influence over them. A Le Monde opinion column poses a painful question: how did Europeans, who played a central role in the negotiations over the 2015 nuclear agreement, end up virtually pushed aside after the war began? The authors link this not only to military weakness, but also to the fact that diplomacy increasingly depends on leaders’ personal decisions and the informal circles around them rather than on stable institutions.

Germany’s reaction is more contradictory. Berlin cannot afford a rupture with Washington: US guarantees, bases and command structures remain of fundamental importance to European security. But this is precisely why German commentators are increasingly framing the problem as one of “reliability.” In an August article in Die Zeit, the American president is described as a source of a constant stream of threats to NATO, tariff displays and political improvisation, while peace in Europe still depends to a large extent on US military capabilities. This is not a call to abandon the United States; it is an acknowledgment that Germany is not yet capable of replacing America, but can no longer base its policy on the assumption that America will always be predictable.

The third theme reveals the deepest Franco-German disagreement with Washington: the struggle over regulation of digital platforms. If the United States is primarily a military protector and market for Australia, then for France and Germany it is also a source of critical technological dependence. In Paris and Berlin, threats of new trade measures in response to European fines and rules for US technology giants are viewed not as a narrow conflict involving Google or social media, but as an attempt to restrict Europe’s right to establish its own standards.

Emmanuel Macron stated this position in particularly strong terms: “Nous serons inflexibles”—“we will be uncompromising”—speaking about the defense of European regulation. Chancellor Friedrich Merz, for his part, said that “legislative sovereignty in Europe and its member states cannot be called into question by anyone.” These remarks, cited in a Le Monde analysis, matter less for their harshness than for the rare convergence between the French and German approaches. Paris has traditionally emphasized sovereignty and the EU’s ability to wield power; Berlin has usually feared trade escalation. Yet US pressure is bringing them closer together.

This convergence is already taking institutional shape. Following the Franco-German Council of Ministers in July, both countries declared their intention to advance a European technology sovereignty package: not to close markets, but to reduce critical dependencies, develop domestic capacity in AI and digital infrastructure, and preserve the EU’s right to regulate platforms. This approach is set out in the Élysée Palace’s joint conclusions and the French Finance Ministry’s position. Notably, “digital sovereignty” here does not mean abandoning American technology. It means seeking the ability to function, protect data and enforce its own laws even in the event of political pressure from its closest ally.

The main conclusion from Australia, France and Germany is that the image of the United States is changing not from affection to hostility, but from confidence to risk management. Australia is trying to preserve its defense ties with Washington, but does not want AUKUS to automatically mean participation in every American campaign. France is using the tariff and technology conflict as an argument for a more independent Europe. Germany, the country most dependent on American security and open trade, is gradually acknowledging that the old transatlantic formula no longer guarantees either.

The most unexpected detail of this international reaction is not the three countries’ desire to sever ties with the United States, but almost the opposite: a desire to preserve the alliance, trade and technological cooperation while simultaneously creating safeguards against decisions made by Washington itself. America remains necessary. But in Canberra, Paris and Berlin, people are increasingly starting from the premise that necessity is no longer synonymous with trust.

❮ ❯

America Between Hormuz, Kyiv and Pyongyang: Allies Seek Protection, Rivals—Concessions

In the final days of August and the first hours of September 2026, the United States became the focus of particularly close—and sharply divergent—attention in South Korea, Russia and Israel. The immediate cause was the same: the resumption of American strikes on Iranian targets near the Strait of Hormuz. But local interpretations differ. In Israel, analysts are debating whether Donald Trump’s administration can combine military deterrence against Iran with economic coercion. In South Korea, the conflict is being read as a warning: American involvement in the Middle East is already affecting the cost of Washington’s alliance commitments in Asia. In Russia, meanwhile, the escalation in the Middle East highlights another issue—the US attempt to negotiate over the war in Ukraine while retaining its logic of pressure and deal-making.

Hormuz has become the main pressure point. Following the US strike on August 31 against IRGC units, which Washington accused of preparing to mine the strait again, the local debate shifted from the question of “who carried out the attack” to a far more significant one: can America guarantee freedom of navigation without becoming bogged down in another prolonged war? The Israeli Institute for National Security Studies states the Trump administration’s dilemma directly in its analysis: the White House must shift the center of gravity from a military campaign to economic pressure, while ensuring that Tehran does not conclude that the United States has lost its willingness to use force. The Israeli perspective is especially practical here. For Jerusalem, a one-off display of power is not enough: if Iran can periodically restore mines, anti-ship capabilities and threats to commercial shipping, every American declaration of a “secure Hormuz” will be tested by another attack.

That is why Israeli analysts view sanctions not as an alternative to war, but as its continuation by other means. INSS emphasizes that the effectiveness of a new campaign will depend not on the number of restrictions announced, but on whether Washington is prepared to impose secondary sanctions on banks, companies and states that continue trading with Iran—above all, Chinese entities. This is a revealing detail: in Israel, the debate is less about America’s right to strike Iran than about American consistency. If force is used sporadically and sanctions do not reach Tehran’s external sponsors and intermediaries, the strategy becomes an expensive effort to maintain the status quo.

Russia’s reaction to the same events is noticeably more skeptical. In a column for Kommersant, Iran expert Farhad Ibragimov describes the situation as being in a state of “neither peace nor war” and draws attention to the inconsistency of American signals: Trump simultaneously promises that the crisis will end soon, says he is in no hurry to negotiate, and portrays Hormuz as almost normalized, even though attacks and threats to shipping continue. This is not simply anti-American rhetoric. It reflects a specific observation: Moscow sees American policy as an attempt to preserve freedom of maneuver—to strike, declare the operation limited, threaten sanctions and leave the door open to a deal. From the Russian perspective, such flexibility may benefit Washington tactically, but it does not create predictable rules for its adversaries.

The South Korean debate gives Hormuz a different meaning—an economic and alliance-related one. South Korean media are reporting a new wave of concern over tanker attacks, shipping suspensions and rising oil prices; SBS directly links the renewed US-Iranian clashes to tensions along a route critical to global energy supplies. But for Seoul, this is not only about oil. The more American ships, aircraft, munitions and political attention are absorbed by the Middle East, the sharper the question becomes: could the Korean Peninsula become a bargaining chip in a broader Washington deal with its allies and rivals?

This concern intensified after Trump ordered a reduction in the scale of joint US-South Korean exercises in August, while again discussing the possibility of a personal meeting with Kim Jong Un. In an assessment by the Korea Institute for National Unification, Lee Sang-shin, director of the institute’s research division, argues that the decision could open a window for easing tensions and resuming US-North Korean dialogue. But another analysis by the same institute, prepared by senior researcher Min Tae-eun, advances a tougher argument: Trump is seeking a foreign-policy breakthrough after the Iranian track failed to produce results, while North Korea’s nuclear capabilities are now greater than during Trump’s first term and Pyongyang has fewer incentives to make concessions. The publication also contains a particularly important warning for Seoul: if the summit collapses or ends in failure, both Washington and Pyongyang may try to shift part of the blame onto South Korea.

This reveals a common theme linking South Korean and Israeli assessments: US allies are not sure that the current White House understands an alliance as a lasting commitment rather than a set of interchangeable bargaining assets. Israel wants pressure on Iran to be sustained and backed by real penalties for those evading sanctions. South Korea fears that reducing exercises or Trump’s rapprochement with Kim could be tied to questions of spending, investment or the extent of Seoul’s participation in American plans for the Middle East. Jeong Jae-sung, president of the East Asia Institute, describes this as a “package” approach in an EAI analysis: US pressure over Iran, defense spending and economic issues should not be viewed separately, but as elements of a single negotiating framework.

For Russia, American “package diplomacy” is most visible in the Ukrainian context. The debate here concerns not so much the possibility of contact between Moscow and Washington as its price. Vedomosti reports intensified negotiating efforts by Trump’s circle and contacts surrounding a peace settlement; at the same time, Russian commentators interpret the absence of a prompt trilateral summit as a sign that Moscow is unwilling to formalize an agreement until it receives substantive concessions. In the Russian view, negotiations matter not as a humanitarian pause, but as a mechanism for translating the military situation into a new architecture of security and economic relations with the United States.

This explains why Moscow may see a connection between Hormuz and Ukraine where Western audiences see two independent lines of crisis. The more resources and political capital America spends on containing Iran, the more limited its ability appears to dictate terms simultaneously in Europe and East Asia. This does not mean Russia expects the United States to withdraw from every region; rather, it questions Washington’s ability to sustain maximum pressure everywhere for an extended period. The Russian interpretation therefore does not boil down to hoping for “US weakness.” Instead, it assumes that the United States will bargain more actively because the cost of simultaneous confrontation in the Persian Gulf, Ukraine and the Indo-Pacific is rising.

The most unexpected conclusion from the local debates is that in Seoul, Moscow and Jerusalem, America is now viewed not as a declining power, but as a power whose strength has become more selective, personalized and transactional. Israelis are testing whether it is truly prepared to establish rules in Hormuz. South Koreans are asking whether their security could become a bargaining chip in exchange for a Trump-Kim Jong Un meeting or a new deal on burden-sharing. Russians are considering whether America’s need for a diplomatic success can be converted into more favorable terms on Ukraine and in bilateral relations.

This reputational test matters more for the United States than individual missile strikes, sanctions lists or negotiating leaks. A credible American strategy must simultaneously show Iran that freedom of navigation is not a bargaining chip; reassure allies that their security does not depend on the next presidential term; and make clear to Russia that negotiations are possible, but will not automatically mean accepting terms dictated by force. For now, however, foreign observers see in Washington’s actions not a unified doctrine, but a risky attempt to manage three crises with different instruments—strikes, sanctions, reduced military exercises and promises of personal diplomacy.

❮ ❯

America as a Source of Risk: Why Japan, China and Turkey Debate More Than Trump—and the...

In the first days of September, the main American issue in Japanese, Chinese and Turkish discussions was not U.S. domestic politics itself, but a combination of three elements: a new escalation of pressure on Iran, the threat of secondary sanctions against its trading partners, and Washington’s familiar use of tariffs as an instrument of coercion. Local observers see the same pattern in all this: the United States is trying to preserve freedom of military and economic maneuver, while the costs of this strategy—from expensive oil to disrupted supply chains—are shifted onto allies, Iran’s neighbors and the largest Asian economies. Following the U.S. strike on facilities on Iran’s Larak Island on August 30 and Tehran’s retaliatory actions, tensions around the Strait of Hormuz were once again perceived not as a prolonged backdrop but as a risk of immediate escalation. (thepaper.cn)

The broadest reaction in all three countries is skepticism toward the idea that economic strangulation can replace a political settlement. In China, this skepticism is expressed most directly. In a Pengpai analysis, Sun Degang, director of the Center for Middle East Studies at Fudan University, describes a shift in roles: the United States, he says, is seeking to “wear Iran down through an economic cold war,” while Tehran is trying to force Washington to accept its terms more quickly through active measures. The Chinese interpretation is important because it does not reduce the crisis to the nuclear program: control over Hormuz is understood as a test of whether America still retains the ability to set security rules in the Persian Gulf unilaterally. In another Chinese analysis, Qin Tian, deputy director of the Institute of Middle East Studies at the China Institutes of Contemporary International Relations, calls control of the strait a symbol of American hegemony in the region: in his view, yielding here would signal its weakening. (chinanews.com.cn)

At the same time, the Chinese debate emphasizes the limits of American pressure. Pengpai notes that the policy of maximum economic pressure announced by Washington on August 19 depends less on the forcefulness of its language than on whether third countries—above all the UAE and China—are actually prepared to cut off Iran’s trade and financial channels. Chinese authors see a contradiction here: the United States wants to punish countries supporting Tehran, but overly strict enforcement of secondary sanctions would inevitably affect Chinese banks, oil refineries and yuan-based transactions, turning the Iranian issue into a new front in the U.S.-China confrontation. This prospect is already apparent in Japanese analysis as well: the Dai-ichi Life Research Institute believes that the exclusion of major Chinese banks from the sanctions campaign may be explained by the White House’s reluctance to worsen relations with Beijing ahead of the planned September 24 meeting between Donald Trump and Xi Jinping. (dlri.co.jp)

In Japan, the same American campaign is viewed primarily through the language of an ally’s vulnerability. Tokyo does not publicly dispute Washington’s stated goal—preventing further destabilization of the region—but focuses on the consequences for Japanese companies, shipping and energy security. Chief Cabinet Secretary Kihara said on August 25 that the government was studying the substance of the new U.S. measures and their impact on Japanese businesses; at the same time, he stressed the importance of reopening the Strait of Hormuz as soon as possible and reaching a final U.S.-Iran agreement. (news.tv-asahi.co.jp) This is a characteristically Japanese formula: not directly challenging American power, but demanding predictability and a negotiated way out of the crisis. Japanese commentators, however, are increasingly unsure that Washington is genuinely moving toward a deal. In a Kobe Shimbun editorial, the American approach is described as having reached its limit: pressure is being applied not only to adversaries but also to allies, while expanding the sanctions coalition remains doubtful precisely because of China’s resistance. (kobe-np.co.jp)

For Turkey, the American line on Iran is not an abstract dispute over the global order, but almost an accounting problem capable of becoming a social one. In a Turkish DW report, the threat of secondary sanctions is described as a direct challenge to a country that remains one of Iran’s major trading partners. The concern is not limited to a decline in bilateral trade: the U.S. warning that violators could be shut out of the dollar-based financial system affects banks, logistics companies and exporters even before any penalties are formally imposed. Turkish energy expert Mehmet Öğütçü, writing in a column for Yetkin Report, advises Ankara to prepare a “dual stress test” in case sanctions against Iran and Russia are intensified simultaneously. His particularly striking conclusion is that losing Iranian gas would be a manageable problem on its own, but the simultaneous impact of Iranian and Russian sanctions shocks would turn energy into a systemic economic and strategic crisis. (yetkinreport.com)

That is why in Turkey, the debate over the United States quickly becomes a debate about oil, inflation and the current account. DW Türkçe cites an estimate by the Central Bank of the Republic of Turkey: a $10 increase in the price of oil could widen the country’s current-account deficit by $2.6 billion over the following 12 months. For an economy still struggling with high inflation, Hormuz is not a distant sea passage but a channel through which the U.S.-Iran conflict is transmitted into gasoline prices, imports and credit costs. Analysts at Gedik Yatırım put it even more clearly: uncertainty surrounding the strait is critical for Turkish inflation and monetary policy. (amp.dw.com)

The second common theme is tariffs as part of the same American philosophy of pressure. In Japan’s case, this is particularly painful: NRI executive economist Nobuhide Kiuchi writes that the new 12.5% tariff on Japanese goods introduced in July continues a policy in which the Trump administration is seeking new legal grounds for trade pressure after courts restricted its previous tariff mechanisms. His key conclusion concerns not the size of the rate but its consequences: this tactic increases uncertainty for both the Japanese and global economies. (nri.com) Chinese economic reviews offer an almost mirror-image assessment: the new U.S. tariff regime against dozens of trading partners is viewed as a “change of packaging,” rather than a rejection of the previous policy; under this logic, much of the cost is passed on to American importers and consumers, while the global price is reflected in instability across production chains. (finance.sina.com.cn)

Ultimately, Japanese, Chinese and Turkish perspectives differ in their political sympathies but converge in their diagnosis. Japan fears that its alliance with the United States does not protect it from arbitrary economic demands. China sees an attempt to preserve slipping strategic superiority without entering into a direct and excessively costly confrontation with Beijing. Turkey views Washington as a power whose decisions could simultaneously obstruct trade with a neighbor, raise energy prices and narrow the room for independent diplomacy. The most unexpected common theme in these discussions is not whether America is strong enough, but whether it can still turn power into a durable order. For now, local analysts are answering this question with growing caution: the United States can radically change the rules, but is becoming less and less able to ensure that the rules will work afterward.

❮ ❯

U.S. Escalation in the Middle East Raises Alarm and Doubts

Chinese and Turkish publications view Washington’s policy toward Iran and the Middle East as strategically unsuccessful and increasingly costly. The focus is on missed opportunities to contain the crisis surrounding Iran, disagreements within the Pentagon over military operations, threats to oil supplies and shipping through the Strait of Hormuz, and growing pressure to withdraw U.S. troops. Commentators note that the consequences of the escalation are narrowing Donald Trump’s room for maneuver, while China may gain additional strategic advantages. The material is based on publications by Guancha (China).

Chinese Press on Protests Against U.S. Data Centers

America’s race to build artificial intelligence infrastructure is increasingly encountering resistance from local communities. Residents fear higher electricity bills, overloaded power grids, environmental consequences, and the influence of major technology corporations on regional life. Yet in U.S. political rhetoric, these domestic conflicts are increasingly being linked to China, writes the Chinese outlet Guancha.cn.

The publication was prompted by remarks from Donald Trump, who urged American communities not to obstruct the construction of data centers. In his view, opponents of such facilities are choosing “backwardness and poverty,” whereas the development of AI infrastructure could create new jobs, increase prosperity, and reduce taxes. Trump also claimed that China was supposedly “incredibly happy” about the anti-AI movement in the United States.

Guancha.cn ironically observes that China has once again been drawn into an American domestic political debate without convincing evidence of its involvement. In the Chinese interpretation, this fits Washington’s familiar pattern: problems caused by its own political decisions, energy constraints, and conflicts of interest between corporations and the public are explained as the result of an external threat and “Chinese interference.”

At the same time, the publication notes, the causes of the protests are quite concrete and domestic. According to an Annenberg Foundation poll, 61% of Americans oppose the construction of new data centers in their communities. Among Republicans, the figure is 54%. People fear that energy-intensive data-processing facilities will increase demand for electricity, drive up rates, and place additional strain on public utilities.

Vice President J.D. Vance effectively acknowledged the connection between public dissatisfaction and household expenses. In his words, “99%” of the strong opposition to data centers is probably explained by rising energy costs in areas located near such facilities. This admission is particularly notable against the backdrop of attempts to portray the protest movement as the result of foreign influence.

Another problem is the split within the Republican Party. Republican governors, lawmakers, and candidates who had previously supported expanding AI infrastructure are being forced to take voters’ attitudes into account. In Texas, where the authorities had sought to attract technology investment, hundreds of projects have been halted. Governor Greg Abbott and other Republican politicians have found themselves in a situation where supporting data centers has become a politically risky position.

The Chinese publication sees this as a contradiction between U.S. national ambitions in AI and the interests of local communities. The effort to overtake China in the technology race requires the rapid construction of computing capacity, but at the local level it encounters rising costs, environmental concerns, distrust of Big Tech, and demands for public oversight. According to Guancha.cn, these factors—not actions by Beijing—determine the scale of the resistance.

Nevertheless, some members of the American political establishment have attempted to link the protests to the PRC. Republicans in the House of Representatives called for an investigation into alleged Chinese “incitement,” while OpenAI, without providing evidence, claimed that China might have conducted an online campaign against the construction of data centers. Even American analysts have challenged this logic. Ryan Fedasiuk, an expert at the American Enterprise Institute, emphasized: “We have to acknowledge that China is not the reason AI construction is unpopular in the United States.”

For China, the story is important in the broader context of technological competition and the development of its own computing capacity, energy base, and AI industry. However, Guancha.cn’s publication focuses less on rivalry than on the vulnerabilities of the American model. The United States is trying to rapidly build critical digital infrastructure, but it cannot reconcile the interests of technology companies, the energy sector, local authorities, residents, and party elites.

In this interpretation, references to China become a convenient political device that allows officials to avoid discussing the real costs of AI expansion: expensive energy, pressure on the grid, potential environmental damage, and a lack of dialogue with the public. The Chinese press presents protests against data centers not as the result of an external campaign, but as a consequence of the United States’ internal problems—problems that American politicians seek to explain through the presence of a symbolic foreign adversary.

❮ ❯

America as a Risky Ally: Why Riyadh, Berlin and Kyiv Increasingly Speak Not of “U.S

As of August 31, 2026, the main American issue simultaneously provoking reactions in Saudi Arabia, Germany and Ukraine has been not one specific Washington initiative, but the overall effect of its policy: the United States remains an indispensable power, yet its decisions are increasingly perceived by partners as a source of secondary risks. The resumption of U.S. strikes on Iran, reported by Germany’s Tagesschau on August 31, once again linked the Persian Gulf, European security and Russia’s war against Ukraine in a single political picture. In all three countries, the debate is less about whether America is powerful than about whether it can turn that power into a predictable strategy.

The sharpest reaction is coming from Saudi Arabia, where the U.S.-Iran war is perceived not as a distant conflict between great powers, but as a threat to the kingdom’s own economic heart—its oil infrastructure, maritime trade and the stability of the Persian Gulf. Saudi diplomacy formally supports an end to the hostilities: in a June statement, the Foreign Ministry welcomed the U.S.-Iran agreement, but particularly emphasized the need to restore the security and freedom of navigation in the Strait of Hormuz to the level that existed before February 28. This qualification is more important than an ordinary diplomatic formula: Riyadh is demanding not merely a pause, but a settlement that takes into account the interests of the states in the region themselves, rather than only those of Washington and Tehran. This is evident in the official position of the Saudi Foreign Ministry.

Saudi writers are not calling for a break with the United States. On the contrary, they are advocating a tougher reassessment of the terms of the partnership. An Okaz columnist describes the kingdom’s course as “war diplomacy”: avoiding direct involvement in the conflict while assembling regional coalitions, protecting the sovereignty of neighboring states and seeking an international security regime for Hormuz. What is notable in his column is the underlying logic itself: security can no longer be built on the assumption that the presence of U.S. forces automatically deters escalation. Bases and treaties remain assets, but they also make the Gulf states part of Iran’s retaliation map. For Riyadh, this is a particularly painful paradox: Washington is needed as a guarantor against threats, yet its confrontation with Tehran may bring the threat directly onto allied territory.

This leads to a surprisingly pragmatic Saudi conclusion: the region needs not a replacement for the United States by another external patron, but its own network of safeguards—integrated air defenses, diplomatic ties with Iran, coordination within the Gulf Cooperation Council and diversified international relations. A recent analysis by the Al Jazeera Centre for Studies describes the American campaign as a war in which the United States achieved individual tactical objectives but failed to secure a political exit: the Iranian nuclear issue has not been resolved, while shipping through the Strait of Hormuz remains vulnerable. For Saudi audiences, this is not an abstract assessment of someone else’s war, but a warning: a prolonged American conflict is destroying precisely the regional environment on which Saudi modernization depends.

In Germany, the same question is being voiced differently, but with a similar sense of urgency. Berlin views the United States primarily through the prism of NATO, Ukraine and its own technological and military dependence. An ARD commentary on six months of war with Iran sums up the mood in strikingly stark terms: the administration of Donald Trump, in the view of author Karsten Küntopp, has not strengthened American power but squandered it, ignoring specialists’ warnings and drawing the country into a conflict without a convincing political endgame. In the Tagesschau article, the main fear is framed not as sympathy for Iran, but as Europe’s anxiety: a weakened America, preoccupied with the Middle East and unpredictable, is less capable of serving as a pillar of support for its allies on the continent.

The German debate is therefore becoming less about conventional anti-Americanism and more about the question of “insurance against an ally.” In an analysis of Germany’s dependence on the United States, Die Zeit points out that Germany is tied to American capabilities not only through troops and nuclear deterrence, but also through satellite intelligence, logistics, air defense, munitions and digital technologies. In other words, even the political desire to become more self-reliant does not yet amount to the ability to act independently. This is a key difference between the German and Saudi reactions: Riyadh is trying to reduce the risk of being drawn into someone else’s war, while Berlin fears being left without American resources in its own.

Yet the overall conclusion is the same: it is no longer possible to rely on the United States “as before.” In Germany, this idea is leading to accelerated rearmament, the development of a European defense industry and efforts to preserve Ukraine as a military shield for Eastern Europe. In Saudi Arabia, it is leading to regional diplomacy and a multi-vector foreign policy. In both cases, America remains critically important, but is no longer perceived as a political constant.

For Ukraine, American unpredictability has an even more tangible dimension—Patriot missiles, funding, sanctions pressure on Moscow and the very possibility of surviving another winter. After Trump’s August 6 statement that Washington would not provide Kyiv with additional interceptor missiles because the United States needed them itself, Ukraine’s reaction was ambivalent. On the one hand, Kyiv cannot afford a public rupture: Serhii Kyslytsia, First Deputy Head of the Office of the President, continues to speak of confidential contacts with American envoys and stresses that U.S. mediation has not stopped. On the other hand, the very fact that visits and closed-door talks are repeatedly postponed has become a symbol of the fragility of the relationship, as described in a report by DW’s Ukrainian service.

Ukrainian commentators are increasingly candid in distinguishing between the United States as a necessary provider of capabilities and the United States as an unreliable political ally. Diplomat and analyst Andrii Melnyk, speaking on Hromadske Radio, put it almost without diplomatic euphemisms: with Trump’s arrival, Ukraine, in his assessment, lost an ally and gained “a partner—and not the most reliable one.” But this does not mean surrendering to circumstances. Ukraine’s strategy is based on trying to make itself useful to Washington where their interests directly overlap: in deterring Russia, striking its military logistics and, as Ukrainian analysts note, restricting Moscow’s ties with Iran.

This is where the most unexpected common thread emerges. In Kyiv, some experts see the war with Iran not only as a threat that could divert American resources, but also as an opportunity to prove Ukraine’s usefulness to the United States in the broader confrontation with Moscow and Tehran. Ivan Us, chief consultant at the National Institute for Strategic Studies, argues in a DW article that the rapprochement between Trump and Zelenskyy is connected to Ukraine’s ability to pressure Russian-Iranian military communications in the Caspian region. This idea shows how much Ukrainian diplomacy has changed: Kyiv is forced to prove its right to support not only through the moral argument of defending itself against aggression, but also through its usefulness to current American priorities.

A new international picture of the United States is thus taking shape. Saudi Arabia wants America to stop turning the Gulf’s security into collateral damage in its confrontation with Iran. Germany wants U.S. commitments to NATO to depend less on White House impulses and external wars. Ukraine wants to preserve vital American assistance without harboring illusions about its political durability. All three countries are adapting in different ways to the same reality: American power is still enormous, but allies no longer assume that it automatically serves their interests.

The most significant aspect of these reactions is not a rejection of America, but a rejection of their former passivity. Riyadh is demanding the right to participate in shaping the regional order, Berlin is seeking European strategic agency, and Kyiv is learning to turn its own military capabilities into an argument in negotiations with Washington. In this sense, today’s debate about the United States is less about the decline of American influence than about the coming of age of those who for too long regarded American protection as unconditional.

❮ ❯

America as a Source of Risk: Why Australia, France and Japan Debate the Cost

Events in recent days have once again placed the United States at the center of global debate: on August 30, U.S. forces struck Iranian missile installations near the Strait of Hormuz, ending a month-long pause in direct military action. For Australia, France and Japan, this is not an isolated Middle Eastern news story but a symptom of a broader problem: Washington is simultaneously pursuing coercive diplomacy, using tariffs as a means of pressure, and handling its commitments to allies in an increasingly unpredictable manner. (apnews.com)

The main common theme is Hormuz and the transformation of the American campaign against Iran from a promise to quickly restore order into a prolonged source of economic and strategic risks. In Australia, the issue is discussed primarily in professional military terms: not “should America show resolve?” but whether it is capable of reliably ensuring freedom of navigation at all. In a University of New South Wales analysis, former Royal Australian Navy officer Jennifer Parker explains that a single strike against shore targets is not enough. For commercial vessels to actually return to the strait, the United States would need intelligence, maritime patrol aircraft, continuous air cover, escort ships and, if mines posed a threat, a lengthy mine-clearance operation. The Australian view is particularly clear-eyed here: American power is recognized as immense, but it is not considered capable of overriding geography, Iran’s inexpensive drones or the cost of a prolonged maritime campaign. (unsw.edu.au)

In Japan, the same crisis is perceived even more painfully—as a test of the vulnerability of a country dependent on seaborne energy supplies. In a strategic commentary, Koichi Nakagawa, a researcher at the Japan Institute of International Affairs, calls Hormuz the “lifeline” of Japan’s oil imports. His central point is not limited to condemning or supporting the American operation: in his assessment, the U.S.-Israeli attack changed the very nature of the conflict—from an attempt to constrain Iran’s nuclear program to an intervention affecting the structure of Iranian rule and the regional order. The Japanese therefore see the American action not as a brief episode, but as the risk of being drawn into a remaking of the Middle East without a clear political endgame. (jiia.or.jp)

Economists in Tokyo put it even more directly. In a Japan Research Institute analysis, the Hormuz crisis is described as having exposed two weaknesses in Japan’s energy security: the concentration of supplies and the lack of alternative routes. For Japanese audiences, it is crucial that America’s war be measured not only in allied declarations, but also in the cost of electricity, fuel, transportation and industrial raw materials. This differs noticeably from the French debate, which focuses more on Washington’s political objectives and the destruction of international rules, but it coincides with the Australian view: an alliance with the United States does not eliminate the need to calculate one’s own costs.

In France, distrust of Donald Trump’s strategy is expressed in more ideological terms. In a column for Le Monde, Sciences Po professor Jean-Pierre Filiu links the current destabilization to decisions made during Trump’s first term—U.S. withdrawal from the nuclear deal with Iran, the relocation of the embassy to Jerusalem and the desire to replace consistent diplomacy with displays of force. His diagnosis is that U.S. military infrastructure becomes an asset only when backed by a clear political strategy; when objectives keep changing, it becomes a vulnerable burden. The French response thus raises a question more often implied in Australia and Japan: if America’s ultimate goal is constantly shifting, how can its allies plan their own security? (lemonde.fr)

The second common theme is trade as an extension of U.S. foreign policy. Australia’s response here is not rhetorical anti-Americanism, but irritated pragmatism. During an August conversation with Trump, Prime Minister Anthony Albanese sought Australia’s full exemption from the new tariffs or at least a refusal to raise the existing 10% rate; according to him, the White House promised only to “consider” the request. As ABC News notes, the leaders were simultaneously discussing AUKUS, a defense project of key importance to Canberra. This juxtaposition is especially telling: Australia is discovering that strategic closeness with the United States does not guarantee trade immunity. (abc.net.au)

In Japan, the reaction is less emotional but no less critical. In his review, Kiyotaka Kiuchi, chief economist at Nomura Research Institute, writes that the new 12.5% U.S. tariff on Japan was introduced on the pretext of insufficient efforts to combat goods produced through forced labor. He assesses the direct effect as relatively limited—around 0.06% of annual GDP—but the main issue lies elsewhere: after the previous tariff framework encountered legal obstacles in the United States, the Trump administration found a new legal mechanism for applying pressure. For the Japanese expert, the problem is less the specific figure than the fact that the rules may once again be rewritten. (nri.com)

The French reaction to the same logic is considerably more politicized. A Le Monde report on approval of the EU-U.S. trade agreement reveals an unusual consensus in French politics: from the left to the far right, most French members of the European Parliament opposed lifting European tariffs on American imports. Manon Aubry, co-president of the left-wing group, called the compromise a “capitulation before Trump,” while Social Democrats Raphaël Glucksmann and Jean-Marc Germain criticized the weakening of the EU’s automatic response mechanisms. For Paris, the dispute is no longer only about exports: it is about whether Europe can respond collectively to American economic pressure instead of relying on individual exemptions. (lemonde.fr)

Finally, the Japanese and French press highlight another concern—the United States’ diplomatic improvisation in East Asia. Trump’s proposal to meet Kim Jong Un again is viewed not as an opportunity for a breakthrough in itself, but as the danger of reaching a deal over the heads of America’s allies. In a column published in France, Richard Haass warns that if complete denuclearization of Pyongyang remains the measure of success, the talks are doomed; arms control is more realistic, but it could look like de facto recognition of North Korea as a nuclear power. For Japan and South Korea, he emphasizes, this would cause profound concern. (lemonde.fr)

An unusually coherent international picture thus emerges. In Canberra, the United States is seen as an indispensable ally that requires constant protection against its own decisions. In Tokyo, it is viewed as a security guarantor whose unpredictability simultaneously raises the cost of energy, trade and regional deterrence. In Paris, it is seen as a power whose pressure demands not personal deals, but European political autonomy. What unites them is not a rejection of relations with America, but a departure from the old assumption that American power automatically creates order. Today, Australia, France and Japan increasingly believe the opposite: power without a stable objective can itself become the main source of instability.

❮ ❯

America Is Turning the Iran Crisis Into a Loyalty Test—China, Russia and Saudi Arabia...

In the final days of August 2026, the main foreign-policy issue shaping reactions to the United States in China, Russia and Saudi Arabia was Washington’s latest attempt to isolate Iran economically. Launched on August 24 by U.S. Treasury Secretary Scott Bessent, the “economic expulsion” campaign threatens secondary sanctions not only against Tehran, but also against states, banks, carriers and companies that continue trading with it. For Washington, this is a way to move from a protracted military confrontation to economic coercion. For the three capitals watching from the sidelines, it is simultaneously a test of America’s ability to dictate the rules, a warning about the fragility of maritime trade, and a reminder that the costs of U.S. strategy are increasingly being shifted onto third countries. (kommersant.ru)

In China’s debate, U.S. pressure is viewed primarily not as a narrow Iranian issue, but as another stage in the rivalry between the United States and the PRC. Beijing officially rejected the extraterritorial logic of the sanctions: Foreign Ministry spokesman Lin Jian said on August 24 that pressure and sanctions “do not help solve problems,” but instead increase tensions. The following day, he stressed that Chinese-Iranian cooperation is conducted within the framework of international norms and should not become the subject of interference. This formula is important: China is not promising a political or military alliance with Iran, but it refuses to recognize Washington’s right to determine what trade between third countries is permissible. The Chinese statement carried by China News Service and the Xinhua report show that official Chinese language focuses not on defending Tehran as such, but on defending the principle of sovereign trade. (chinanews.com.cn)

Chinese analysts go beyond the official rhetoric. In an article by Fudan University’s Center for American Studies, Trump’s renewed reliance on economic pressure is interpreted as evidence that the White House lacks a convincing way out of the Iran conflict: “Trump is pressuring Iran precisely because he has no good moves.” This Chinese interpretation is particularly revealing: U.S. actions are assessed not by the toughness of their wording, but by whether they can turn military superiority into an attainable political result. Zhou Bo, a researcher at Tsinghua University, expressed a similar idea back in July, describing the war as the consequence of a decision made “at the expense of the entire world.” His eight conclusions about the U.S.-Iran war reflect a widespread view in China: American power remains immense, but its use is becoming increasingly difficult to reconcile with the stability of the global system. (cas.fudan.edu.cn)

This explains China’s unexpectedly restrained but firm position. Beijing has no interest in direct confrontation with the United States over Iran, especially when its own energy supplies and relations with Arab exporters are at risk. But neither does it see any reason to help Washington restore regional dominance through a sanctions blockade. Chinese political scientist Gu Xuewu, in an interview with Deutsche Welle in Chinese, put it almost cynically: China does not need to “decide America’s fate” in the Middle East; it is enough not to prevent America from making its own mistakes. This does not necessarily mean that Beijing is prepared to compensate Iran for all its losses. Rather, it will calibrate its support so that U.S. secondary sanctions do not become a universal norm.

In Russia, the same campaign is viewed through the experience of years of sanctions against Moscow. Russian media describe the American initiative as an attempt not merely to punish Iran, but to turn trade with it into a risk for all of its partners. The Kommersant analysis emphasizes that Washington speaks of the regime’s “economic strangulation” and openly does not rule out putting pressure on China—the main buyer of Iranian oil. For a Russian audience, this is a familiar construct: sanctions are understood not as a temporary negotiating tool, but as a technology for creating a broad economic perimeter around an unwanted state. (kommersant.ru)

That is why the most important issue in Russian commentary is not how painful the new restrictions will be for Iran, but their blowback. China expert Nikolai Vavilov argues in an RT column that pressure on oil suppliers ultimately accelerates their economic rapprochement with China and makes Beijing an increasingly indispensable center for settlements, logistics and demand. This is clearly a politically colored assessment, but it conveys a broader Russian argument well: excessive use of sanctions does not return countries to the American orbit; instead, it forces them to seek alternative channels for payments, transportation and trade. (russian.rt.com)

Yet the Russian view is not identical to China’s. For Beijing, the crisis is primarily a risk of being drawn into someone else’s war and of losing access to Middle Eastern oil. For Moscow, it is also proof that American sanctions pressure is becoming increasingly global and therefore objectively bringing Russia, China and Iran closer together. In other words, China is predominantly characterized by a pragmatic rejection of American interference, while Russia has a more ideologized view of the conflict as another episode in the struggle against American unipolarity.

The Saudi reaction differs noticeably from both. Riyadh is less interested in the dispute over the legitimacy of secondary sanctions as such, and more interested in whether the American strategy can once again make the Persian Gulf safe for trade, exports and investment. The Saudi state news agency SPA reported after a July conversation between Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman and Donald Trump that the parties identified maritime security and support for regional stability as priorities. The official SPA statement shows that Riyadh is not abandoning cooperation with the United States, but measures it by practical results: Are shipping, energy routes and Saudi Arabia’s own security protected? (spa.gov.sa)

Saudi writers increasingly describe the American and Iranian approaches as a mutual trap. Dr. Faiz al-Shehri writes in a column for Al-Riyadh that Washington possesses colossal military power, but has so far failed to transform it into the political will needed to force Tehran to concede; Iran, for its part, is holding on to its leverage over the Strait of Hormuz, but cannot raise the stakes indefinitely. This assessment is notable not for any sympathy toward Iran—which is absent from Saudi public discourse—but for its skepticism toward the idea that American power automatically produces an orderly system. (alriyadh.com)

Hormuz has become the focal point of Saudi perceptions of America. In late August, Al-Riyadh recorded oil prices above $85 per barrel, rising insurance and transportation costs, and the threat that a closure of the strait would disrupt not only crude oil supplies but also petroleum-product exports. This economic review is more important than many high-profile political statements: Saudi Arabia does not automatically regard high prices as a gain. For a country implementing its Vision 2030 economic-diversification program, unstable logistics, higher insurance rates and regional risk may prove more dangerous than short-term oil revenues. (alriyadh.com)

The Saudi approach can therefore be reduced to a demand for a dual outcome from the United States: Iran must not be allowed to threaten the security of its neighbors and maritime routes, but American pressure must not escalate into an open war whose consequences the Gulf states would have to bear. In an Asharq Al-Awsat article, this position is described as a desire for an agreement that eliminates the roots of the crisis rather than a temporary pause. This is the main difference from China and Russia: Riyadh does not merely want to limit American influence; it wants America to use that influence more predictably and effectively.

The common conclusion of the three debates is not that China, Russia and Saudi Arabia have the same attitude toward the United States. On the contrary, their interests are often opposed: China is defending its room for maneuver in trade, Russia sees an opportunity for further erosion of the West’s sanctions architecture, and Saudi Arabia needs a functioning American security system. But all three countries agree on one point: Washington’s current policy is seen as a test of its ability to combine pressure with diplomacy. If the United States limits itself to threats of secondary sanctions without ensuring the reopening of the Strait of Hormuz, de-escalation and a political framework for negotiations, Beijing will see this as evidence of American strategic exhaustion, Moscow as confirmation of the failure of sanctions hegemony, and Riyadh as yet another reason to hedge its security and economic future against American unpredictability.

❮ ❯

America Pressures Iran—But Turkey, India and China Are Debating America’s Limits

In recent days, U.S. policy has sparked not just one but several interconnected debates in Turkey, India and China. The most prominent issue is Washington’s new campaign of economic pressure on Iran, announced on August 24, which threatens secondary sanctions against countries, banks and companies that maintain trade ties with Tehran. But local commentators do not see this as an isolated Iranian story. For Ankara, it is a question of gas, cross-border trade and the ability to resist unilateral diktat; for New Delhi, it is a test of “strategic autonomy” and a threat to Indian exports; for Beijing, it is another episode in the U.S. struggle to claim the sole right to set the rules of global trade. The common conclusion in all three countries is becoming increasingly clear: Washington is trying to turn access to the dollar system and the American market into an instrument of geopolitical coercion, but the cost of this strategy is also rising for the United States itself.

The issue of Iran has become particularly acute. U.S. Treasury Secretary Scott Bessent warned that countries continuing economic ties with Tehran could be cut off from the dollar-based financial system. In Turkey’s debate, this formula is viewed not as an abstract threat but as a direct blow to the national economy. A DW Türkçe article emphasizes that secondary sanctions affect not only oil trade but also banks, transportation, technology, gold and digital assets. Turkish-Iranian trade reached $5.5 billion in 2025, while energy dependence, although reduced, remains politically sensitive—particularly for the country’s eastern regions, which have historically relied on the pipeline from Iran.

Turkey’s response, however, is not limited to anti-American rhetoric. It reflects a pragmatic fear that the sanctions campaign will deprive Ankara of room for maneuver at a time when its previous long-term gas contract with Iran is ending, while logistics, insurance and energy costs are rising. Euronews Türkiye notes that the agreement covering supplies along the Tabriz–Ankara route expired on July 29, 2026, and that no new long-term contract has been publicly announced. As a result, the U.S. restrictions are seen not only as a foreign-policy problem but also as a risk to inflation, the currency and industrial competitiveness.

At the same time, Turkish analysts are increasingly assessing the U.S. and Israeli campaign against Iran in terms of its strategic effectiveness. On Medyascope, the war that began six months ago is described as a conflict that has failed to achieve its stated goals and has become a political problem for Donald Trump ahead of the November midterm elections. Earlier, political scientist Gönül Tol told the same outlet that the ceasefire had effectively already been violated: “the conflict is still continuing.” From the Turkish perspective, the main paradox is that the United States sought to reduce Iran’s role in the region, but the prolonged war has given Tehran new levers—from threats to shipping in the Strait of Hormuz to the ability to raise the price of any diplomatic compromise. A Medyascope analysis puts it even more bluntly: Washington has become interested in reopening the Strait of Hormuz as soon as possible and is therefore forced to reckon with Iran’s control over the pace of de-escalation.

In India, the reaction is less emotional but no less cautious. The Indian press is focusing primarily on the consequences of secondary sanctions for trade with Iran, food and medicine supplies, and future transport projects. Mint Hindi notes that, formally, the new U.S. measures have not yet placed Indian companies on sanctions lists. However, the very risk of punishment for transactions with Iran is already influencing the decisions of banks and exporters. This is an important detail: Indian concerns are linked less to an immediate ban than to a “chilling effect,” in which businesses abandon deals on their own for fear of losing access to the U.S. market and financing.

India’s debate therefore revolves around the principle New Delhi calls strategic autonomy: India does not want to choose between the United States, Iran, China and Russia according to someone else’s timetable. In a Xinhua publication, Indian international trade law specialist Shatanu Singh points to a key legal argument: without a mandate from the UN Security Council, the United States cannot turn its own sanctions into a universal obligation for the entire world; they are binding on U.S. entities, but not automatically on third countries. This argument matters not because it guarantees India protection, but because it reveals how the conflict is perceived locally: the issue is seen not as a dispute over Iran, but as an attempt to extend U.S. jurisdiction far beyond the United States.

The second Indian line of debate concerns trade. New Delhi is simultaneously discussing U.S. pressure over the alleged re-export of Chinese goods through India and Indian manufacturers’ dependence on Chinese components. Aaj Tak cites a figure that explains the duality of India’s position: despite tariff threats and political tensions, the United States accounts for around 20% of India’s merchandise exports. Indian commentators are therefore not calling for a break with Washington. Rather, they warn that the U.S. campaign against Chinese “transshipment” could punish precisely the production chains India has been building under the Make in India initiative. For New Delhi, this is almost a trap: the United States urges manufacturers to move production from China to India, but then suspects Indian companies of using Chinese intermediate goods.

China’s response is the most systematic. Beijing links sanctions against Iran, tariff measures, export controls and restrictions on Chinese companies into a single architecture of American pressure. China’s Ministry of Commerce has already responded to U.S. measures against Chinese entities with a series of countermeasures, including export controls on drones and their critical components. In a statement published by People’s Daily, the U.S. steps were described as violations of agreements reached by the leaders and of China’s legitimate interests. Ministry spokesman He Yadong, commenting on a U.S. report about alleged “shadow transshipment networks,” said that Washington was portraying normal international trade and investment as a fraudulent scheme, creating a “false narrative” to contain Chinese products. This position was outlined in a People.cn article.

In the Chinese interpretation, Iran is merely the latest test of whether America is truly prepared to punish major economies for refusing to follow its sanctions. Chinese media make no secret of the fact that Beijing will be at the center of U.S. pressure as Iran’s largest trading partner and an important buyer of its oil. But they also emphasize the limits of this strategy. Xinhua writes that military pressure failed to force Iran to capitulate, which is why the United States is once again relying on sanctions. To Chinese readers, this looks like an admission not of strength but of the absence of a functioning political strategy: if, after war and blockade, the only remaining option is to expand economic punishment, then the original goal has not been achieved.

Notably, in China this debate quickly shifts to the question of America’s domestic resilience. Caixin and China Radio International discuss in detail Trump’s decline in approval to 33% and link it not only to the war but also to inflation, voter anxiety and uncertainty ahead of the November 3 elections. The Chinese conclusion is politically calculated: U.S. external pressure may intensify precisely because the White House needs to demonstrate resolve at home. At the same time, this dependence on domestic electoral logic makes America’s course less predictable for both partners and adversaries.

Across all three countries, there is widespread mistrust of the assumption that sanctions automatically change states’ behavior. Turkey views them through the price of gas, transit and the regional balance; India through the right to pursue an independent economic policy and preserve access to the U.S. export market; China through the struggle over the rules of global trade and the rejection of extraterritorial jurisdiction. Their interests differ, but they share the sense that Washington is offering the world an excessively stark choice: either maintain economic ties with Iran and China, or retain secure access to the dollar and the American market.

The most unexpected local idea is that American pressure is no longer necessarily seen as evidence of unquestioned superiority. In Ankara, it is read as a risk to be circumvented; in New Delhi, as a reason to diversify trade without breaking ties with the United States; in Beijing, as an incentive to accelerate the creation of alternative financial and production networks. Thus, the new U.S. campaign centered on Iran may produce the opposite of its stated result: rather than isolating individual rivals, it may bring closer together countries that, for different reasons, are unwilling to give Washington the right to decide whom they may trade with.

❮ ❯

America as a Source of Risk: Why Seoul, Tokyo and Delhi Are Increasingly Talking Not About Alliance with...

As of August 29, 2026, discussions of America in South Korea, Japan and India revolve around one shared concern: Washington is increasingly using force not only in the military sense, but also through control over trade routes, access to its market and the right to work in the United States. The most acute symbol of this has been the protracted US-Iranian confrontation over the Strait of Hormuz. But two other issues have emerged alongside it in Asian debates: new US tariffs, including on drones, and a proposal to once again charge employers $103,265 for a new H-1B visa application. On the surface, these are different decisions—war, trade protection and migration policy. To Asian observers, however, they form a single picture: America is turning its power and the size of its market into instruments of coercion, while its partners are being forced to pay in advance for the unpredictability of this policy.

Hormuz is the point where this concern is felt most directly. After August 28 marked six months since the start of the US-Israeli war against Iran, there is growing skepticism in Seoul and Tokyo that Washington’s statements about restoring freedom of navigation automatically mean a return to normal trade. President Donald Trump insists that the United States has regained the upper hand in the strait, but for Asian countries what matters is not the formula about “control” but the ability to receive oil, gas and components without interruption. In an analysis by EAI President Chung Jae-sung and researcher Park Ji-eun, South Korea’s East Asia Institute describes American statements that the strait is effectively US territory primarily as coercive negotiating rhetoric, rather than a realistic assertion of sovereignty. The authors draw a more important conclusion: for Tehran, control over the passage of vessels is not merely a bargaining chip, but an asymmetric instrument for regime survival. Therefore, even a partial resumption of shipping does not eliminate the risk of a new crisis. (global.eai.or.kr)

This is a distinctly Korean perspective: rather than arguing over who is “winning” the US-Iran confrontation, it assesses how dangerous it is to build a national economy on the assumption that American military power will always guarantee predictable trade. EAI recommends that South Korean companies avoid rushing back to regular routes, gradually reduce their dependence on passage rules imposed by Iran, and closely monitor the prospects for Omani mediation. Particularly notable is the analysts’ assessment that the baseline scenario of alternating negotiations and escalations has a 50% probability, while the scenario involving the collapse of mediation has a 30% probability. This is not a forecast of imminent peace, but a call to adapt business and government to prolonged instability. (global.eai.or.kr)

In Japan, the same problem is framed even more starkly—as an exposed vulnerability in the country’s energy security model itself. In a recent report by the Japan Research Institute, Naoyuki Fukuda writes that the crisis revealed two weaknesses: the excessive concentration of sources and supply routes in the Persian Gulf and the Strait of Hormuz, and the vulnerability of the domestic oil-product distribution chain. In other words, even if a tanker manages to pass through the strait, that does not mean the crude will be converted into fuel and reach Japanese consumers without delays. Japan’s response contains little hope that the problem can be solved by the US Navy alone; instead, it focuses on diversifying procurement, building oil reserves, and expanding the role of nuclear and renewable energy. (jri.co.jp)

The Indian press views Hormuz through an even broader set of risks. In an editorial by Amrit Vichar, the crisis is described as an issue in which New Delhi must simultaneously support Omani mediation, seek guarantees from Iran for Indian shipping, defend its energy interests in negotiations with the United States, and develop alternative supply channels from the Gulf states. In a commentary by Navbharat, the emphasis shifts to sanctions against Iran and the potential damage to India’s project at the port of Chabahar. For India, this is not an abstract port: it provides access to Afghanistan and Central Asia while bypassing Pakistan. India’s response to American pressure is therefore ambivalent: Delhi does not want to quarrel with Washington, but it is not prepared to calmly accept a situation in which US strategy toward Iran blocks its own regional geography. (amritvichar.com)

The second shared theme is American protectionism, which Seoul and Tokyo increasingly view not as a temporary trade dispute but as the new norm in alliance relations. The tariff regime for drones and their components is especially telling: from September 3, the United States will impose tariffs of up to 100% on certain categories of products. South Korea’s Ministry of Trade emphasizes that Korean goods are subject to a 15% ceiling, while also acknowledging the urgent need to clarify the details with Washington and assess the consequences for the industry. The Seoul government briefing makes the prevailing mood clear: even treatment that is preferential compared with China’s or the general regime is not seen as a guarantee—conditions may change by sector and depending on America’s definition of national security. (admin2.korea.kr)

Japan’s reaction is similar in substance but more technocratic. JETRO explains that Japanese, Korean, Taiwanese and European supplies have received a combined ceiling of 15%, while sensitive categories of drones may be subject to a 100% tariff. At the same time, the US scheme provides tariff exemptions for companies that invest in production on US territory. Tokyo reads this as an unmistakable signal: access to the American market is increasingly purchased not through the quality of exports, but through the localization of capital, technology and jobs in America. An alliance with the United States does not eliminate trade pressure; it merely makes it possible to negotiate a lower rate and a longer adjustment period. (jetro.go.jp)

The most distinctive, but politically highly sensitive, Indian issue is H-1B. On August 24, the US Department of Homeland Security proposed introducing an additional $103,265 fee for H-1B visa applications subject to the annual cap. Formally, this is still a proposed rule rather than an enacted regulation: the department says it is needed to offset government expenses related to reviewing, administering and overseeing immigration programs. (content.govdelivery.com) In India, however, it is seen as a blow not only to outsourcing companies but also to the very notion of the United States as the primary platform for the career advancement of the engineering and IT elite.

Yet India’s response reflects not only resentment but also pragmatism. The National Association of Software and Service Companies, Nasscom, said that Indian technology firms have already substantially reduced their dependence on H-1B visas by expanding hiring directly in the United States. In a statement reported by the Indian news agency Press Trust of India, the industry is effectively telling Washington that the program is needed to address skills shortages, not to displace American workers. This is an important tone. Indian business is not responding with calls for confrontation; it is demonstrating that it has already adapted to American political risk—localizing part of its workforce, investing in training and now demanding not privileges but predictable rules. (ibc24.in)

This is the most unexpected shared conclusion emerging from South Korean, Japanese and Indian discussions. In all three, the United States remains an indispensable partner: a military ally for Seoul and Tokyo, the largest market for their industries, a technological center and a key strategic partner for India. But the image of America as a provider of stability is changing noticeably. South Korea is learning to live with the fact that American power at Hormuz does not eliminate insurance and logistics risks; Japan is turning the crisis into a program for structural energy autonomy; and India is trying to protect its sea routes, Chabahar and the mobility of its human capital at the same time. In all three countries, what is growing is not anti-Americanism but a more sober understanding: dependence on the United States now requires not trust but costly insurance—in the form of energy reserves, local production, alternative routes and indigenous technological ecosystems.

❮ ❯

America as a Risk Variable: Why Kyiv, Moscow and Canberra Read Signals Differently

By August 29, 2026, the main subject of international discussion about the United States was no longer any single initiative by Donald Trump, but rather the style of American policymaking: Washington is simultaneously trying to wage war on Iran, pressure its partners with tariffs, and seek discreet channels of communication with Moscow over Ukraine. In Kyiv, this is seen primarily as a test of whether the White House’s desire for a “quick deal” will turn into pressure on the victim of aggression. In Russia, it is viewed as evidence that without direct dialogue with the Kremlin, the United States cannot resolve either the Ukrainian or Middle Eastern crisis. In Australia, it is painful proof that even America’s closest ally is not protected from trade threats and sudden demands.

The week’s most discussed signal was CIA Director John Ratcliffe’s unannounced visit to Moscow on August 25. For the Ukrainian audience, the most important aspect was not the intelligence meeting itself, but a detail accompanying it: according to reports in the Western media, Kyiv was asked not to carry out long-range strikes on Moscow, St. Petersburg or Russia’s northern regions for several days. In an analysis by Ukrainska Pravda, former military intelligence chief Valeriy Kondratyuk sees the replacement of customary political envoys with the CIA director as a sign that is, on balance, favorable to Ukraine: it may indicate a shift from vague “peace” rhetoric to a discussion of verifiable threats, Russian mobilization and risks to NATO. In this reading, Ratcliffe came not so much to bargain over Ukrainian territories as to set out to the Kremlin the limits of further escalation.

But the opposite concern remains in Kyiv as well. Political analyst Igor Petrenko, in an interview with the OStriv outlet, stresses that any covert U.S.-Russian mission inevitably raises the question of whether Washington is returning to a negotiating model in which Ukraine is not a participant but the subject of a deal. This concern has intensified following Trump’s August refusal to provide additional Patriot interceptor missiles, citing the United States’ own needs in the Middle East. For Ukrainian commentators, this is no longer merely a supply issue, but a vivid illustration of the White House’s new hierarchy of priorities: when America is drawn into another war, Ukrainian air defense risks becoming a secondary resource.

Russia’s reaction to the visit has been noticeably calmer and even demonstratively businesslike. Sergey Lavrov said that there was “nothing unusual” about contacts between the CIA chief and Russian intelligence services, as reported by Vedomosti. This is an important formulation: Moscow does not want to present the trip as a diplomatic breakthrough, while at the same time emphasizing that the United States is nevertheless forced to speak with it directly. Russian experts writing in Expert magazine offer a broader list of reasons for the visit: Ukraine, the risk of a clash between Russia and NATO, prisoner exchanges, and Iran. This range suits Moscow precisely because it diminishes Ukraine’s exceptional status: the Kremlin seeks to portray itself not as a party that must be forced to end the war, but as an indispensable center of power without which several global crises cannot be resolved at once.

This reveals a paradox. Kyiv and Moscow interpret the same arrival by an American intelligence chief in completely different ways, yet both capitals see it as proof that Trump’s personal diplomacy is insufficient. Ukraine fears that it is too transactional and could trade long-term security for the appearance of a quick result. Russia, by contrast, suspects that behind the “routine” contacts may lie an American warning against expanding the conflict. Even when Washington speaks of peace, both countries primarily hear a question of power and coercion.

The second shared theme is the U.S. war with Iran, which by the end of August had already lasted around six months and was increasingly changing perceptions of American power. In Australia, this became not an abstract geopolitical issue but a debate over the limits of allied loyalty. Prime Minister Anthony Albanese said back in the spring that under Trump, the United States was “playing a different role” in the world: it was combining protectionism and unilateral military decisions with an expectation that partners would adapt to American priorities. In an ABC interview, he directly linked this shift to Australia’s need to work more closely with other middle powers.

Australian criticism does not, however, mean that Canberra is prepared to break the alliance. Australia still sees AUKUS and the U.S. presence in the Pacific as the foundation of its security in the face of China. Yet the war with Iran has shown that the price of closeness to the United States may be higher than expected: an ally is expected not only to show political solidarity, but also to participate in conflicts it did not choose. In a March ABC analysis, this was described as a possible Australian “red line”: sending military resources to a Middle Eastern war proved too risky for Canberra, even as it sought to preserve relations with Washington.

For Ukraine, the U.S. campaign in the Middle East matters in a different way: it diverts American attention, ammunition and political capital precisely when Ukraine needs protection for its energy infrastructure ahead of winter. In Russian debate, by contrast, Iran has become an argument for the growing negotiating value of Moscow. In the Russian interpretation, Washington cannot effectively “strangle” Tehran economically unless Russia and China limit their ties with it; consequently, the United States has to seek engagement with the Kremlin even amid confrontation over Ukraine. This does not necessarily signify genuine rapprochement, but it helps explain why Russia’s public discourse readily links Ratcliffe’s visit to the Persian Gulf, rather than solely to the war in Europe.

The third line of tension—American tariffs—particularly highlights Australia’s disappointment. In August, the Trump administration imposed a 12.5% tariff on imports from Australia, and Albanese asked for a full exemption. As ABC News writes, the Australian prime minister reminded Trump that over two decades, the United States had accumulated a $442 billion trade surplus with Australia. The argument sounds almost like a request to an ally not to punish a country that is already investing in the American economy and strategic partnership.

This is where the Australian perspective is most unexpected for an American audience. In Canberra, the issue is not limited to the amount of the tariff. The tariff is understood as a political signal: relations with the United States have ceased to provide predictability even where the countries’ interests formally coincide. Australia is not planning to abandon AUKUS, but it is increasingly separating the alliance from trust. Ukraine is experiencing a similar process in the areas of arms supplies and negotiations; Russia is experiencing it in its dealings with an American administration that can seek dialogue and intensify pressure at the same time. The difference is that for Kyiv, U.S. unpredictability is a threat to survival; for Moscow, it is room for maneuver; and for Australia, it is an incentive to pursue a more independent foreign policy.

The overall conclusion from the Ukrainian, Russian and Australian reactions is simple: America remains the central power, but its decisions are increasingly perceived as an unstable foundation. Today, its influence is measured not only by its ability to supply weapons, impose tariffs or conduct secret negotiations, but also by the extent to which other countries are forced to hedge against yet another American shift.

❮ ❯

America, Expected to Deliver Solutions but Prepared for Its Absence

In recent days—from August 25 to 28, 2026—three interconnected themes have stood out in Ukrainian, French and Turkish discussions of the United States: America’s protracted war and sanctions campaign against Iran, Washington’s shifting of increasing responsibility for Ukraine onto Europe, and the domestic weakening of the Donald Trump administration. Local reactions do not boil down to the familiar argument “for” or “against” America. In Kyiv, Paris and Ankara, the United States is increasingly seen as a still indispensable but less predictable power whose domestic political needs are beginning to shape its international strategy.

The most painful common issue is Ukraine and Washington’s de facto proposal that Europe assume the main burden of the war. On August 27, U.S. Deputy Secretary of Defense Elbridge Colby said plainly at NATO headquarters that the United States expects Europeans to take the leading role both in their own conventional defense and in supporting Ukraine. At the same time, he stressed that Europe remains a “critical interest” for the United States, even as America’s priority shifts to the Western Hemisphere. This is not the language of an alliance rupture, but of a redistribution of roles: America is not promising to disappear, but is warning that it no longer intends to be the main provider of European security. Ukrainska Pravda reported this. (pravda.com.ua)

In France, this statement reinforces an already established conviction: European strategic autonomy is ceasing to be a French intellectual ambition and becoming a necessary form of insurance. An editorial in Le Monde calls on Europe to accelerate aid to Kyiv, noting Trump’s inconsistency over U.S. Patriots: at first he appeared open to licensing their production for Ukraine, then backed away. French anxiety is therefore directed less at a specific White House decision than at a new norm—assistance that depends on the fluctuations of the U.S. president and can be canceled with a single political maneuver. (lemonde.fr)

The Ukrainian perspective is noticeably more sober and कठोर. In Kyiv, no one concludes that a decline in Trump’s popularity will automatically make U.S. policy more pro-Ukrainian. Oleksandr Krayev, director of the North America program at the Ukrainian Prism center, calls Ukraine a “golden share” for Trump in an analysis for Ukrainska Pravda: success in supporting Kyiv could improve his position, but inaction would not necessarily harm him in the eyes of voters preoccupied with prices, migration and incomes. This is an important local qualification to European hopes: Ukrainian analysts see the American president not as an ally who can be persuaded by a moral argument, but as a politician who may be interested only by proof of geopolitical advantage. (pravda.com.ua)

This also explains the ambivalent reaction to CIA Director John Ratcliffe’s visit to Moscow on August 25. For Ukrainian observers, the visit itself is significant: Washington is once again speaking directly with the Kremlin and is likely attempting to deal simultaneously with Russia, Ukraine and Iran. But Ukrainska Pravda emphasizes another aspect: if the U.S. side delivered a warning about the consequences of escalation, it would be a rare instance of a signal reaching the Kremlin personally from the head of the U.S. intelligence service. Kyiv sees this not as a guaranteed diplomatic breakthrough, but as an indication that American deterrence still exists—and that it must not be allowed to dissolve into deals or fatigue. (pravda.com.ua)

The Turkish discussion of Ukraine is less emotional but no less pragmatic. For Ankara, the redistribution of roles within NATO means greater importance for Turkey itself. Against the backdrop of Russia’s war against Ukraine, Europe’s rearmament and the Middle Eastern crisis, Turkey is once again emerging not as a peripheral ally but as a country indispensable to discussions of the Black Sea, the eastern flank and mediation. In an Anadolu Ajansı analysis, this is presented almost as a diplomatic opportunity: the weakening of American exclusivity in European security gives Turkey room to demand the removal of restrictions on defense-industrial cooperation. In other words, where Kyiv fears American distance and Paris prepares to compensate for it, Ankara is seeking to turn Europe’s new dependence on regional players into practical concessions.

The second theme—Iran—brings the three countries even closer together, although their reasons for concern differ. French media describe the American strategy as a shift from hoping for a quick military resolution to economically strangling Tehran. A Le Monde report describes the situation as “neither war nor peace”: six months after the start of operations, the United States has achieved no decisive victory, but has also found no acceptable way out. The French interpretation is especially revealing: pressure on Iran is viewed not as a demonstration of American strength, but as a consequence of the absence of a military solution and the approach of the U.S. midterm elections in November. (lemonde.fr)

In Turkey, this same policy is perceived primarily through its cost to Iran’s neighbors. New U.S. restrictions and the threat of cutting violators off from the dollar-based financial system affect countries that continue trading with Tehran. DW Türkçe notes that Turkey remains one of Iran’s major trading partners: it exports textiles, machinery, chemicals and automobiles there, while importing gas, agricultural products, aluminum and steel. In Ankara, therefore, America’s “maximum economic” pressure does not look like an abstract punishment of the ayatollahs’ regime, but a threat to its own energy supplies, cross-border trade and Turkish businesses’ access to the global financial system. (amp.dw.com)

Turkish commentators add another motive, less obvious to Western audiences: Washington may be stronger militarily, but Iran has learned to turn geography and regional interdependence into instruments of pressure. In a Medyascope program, the war is described as having reached a dead end within just six months: in the authors’ assessment, further strikes are unlikely to force Tehran to yield, while the political risks for Republicans ahead of the elections are only growing. A typically Turkish interpretation is evident here: rather than choosing between American and Iranian rhetoric, it measures both sides’ ability to withstand the economic, energy and transportation costs of a prolonged confrontation. (medyascope.tv)

For Ukraine, Iran remains above all a factor dispersing American attention. In the Ukrainian analysis already mentioned, Krayev links Trump’s falling approval ratings to the consequences of the Middle Eastern adventure and the blockade of the Strait of Hormuz, which struck the global economy. But Ukrainian authors draw not the conclusion that Washington is about to turn toward Kyiv, but the opposite one: the White House has even more incentive to seek quick, high-profile and inexpensive diplomatic results rather than conduct a long, consistent campaign of support for Ukraine. (pravda.com.ua)

The third theme, currently voiced most loudly in France, is doubt about the institutional resilience of the United States itself. French financial debate is closely watching the administration’s pressure on the Federal Reserve. Le Monde warns that confidence in the country’s central bank is at risk—an institution whose decisions affect not only American but also global interest rates. For Paris, this is not merely an internal American scandal: the Fed’s independence, the stability of the dollar and the cost of servicing debt are elements of the financial infrastructure on which the European economy rests. (lemonde.fr)

This is where all three national perspectives converge. France sees an America capable of exporting financial instability; Turkey sees an America capable of changing the terms of trade with a neighbor through a single sanctions decision; Ukraine sees an America whose electoral incentives may determine the pace and scale of assistance at the front. In each country, the United States remains the principal external player, but confidence is disappearing that Washington itself sets stable rules. Its policy is increasingly perceived as a combination of power and improvisation—while its partners simultaneously try to keep America close, hedge against it and benefit from its new inconsistency.

❮ ❯

America Under Pressure: How Paris, Riyadh and Beijing Read the Erosion of U.S. Power

By the end of August 2026, the United States had simultaneously become the center of three interconnected crises: the protracted standoff with Iran over the Strait of Hormuz, a new escalation in the economic and technological confrontation with China, and the increasingly visible domestic constraints on Donald Trump’s administration. In France, Saudi Arabia and China, these developments are viewed not as separate American news stories, but as signs of a larger shift: Washington remains capable of imposing sanctions, blocking markets and demonstrating military force, but is becoming less and less able to turn pressure into a durable political outcome.

The most acute issue is Iran. In the French debate, the American approach looks above all like a trap created by the White House itself. In a Le Monde analysis, the current strategy is described as a shift from military coercion to “economic strangulation”: after six months of operations, the United States has achieved neither Tehran’s surrender nor a genuine peace, and is attempting to compensate for the military deadlock with new sanctions. The French perspective is particularly important here: Paris sees not only a U.S.-Iran conflict, but also the risk of extraterritorial American pressure on third countries, including European institutions and banks. U.S. sanctions policy is portrayed not as a precise instrument, but as a mechanism that expands the conflict far beyond its original boundaries.

The Saudi reaction is markedly less ideological and much more practical. For Saudi observers, the question is not whether the United States is right in its dispute with Iran, but whether freedom of navigation through the Strait of Hormuz—the key export route for energy from the Persian Gulf—can be guaranteed. The Saudi newspaper Okaz emphasizes the restoration of vessel traffic and links it to the presence of the U.S. Navy; in its interpretation, the increase in maritime traffic means that Tehran is gradually losing its ability to dictate terms in the strait. But this is by no means an unconditional endorsement of the American war. In another article, Okaz notes that Washington is linking an extension of the truce to the full reopening of Hormuz, while Iran is demanding an end to the blockade and sanctions. (okaz.com.sa) For Riyadh, the United States remains an indispensable military partner, but the American campaign is valuable only insofar as it reduces, rather than multiplies, regional instability.

This is precisely where the French and Saudi views diverge significantly. France primarily sees American policy as a threat of endless war and to Europe’s diplomatic autonomy. Saudi Arabia sees it as a necessary, though risky, shield against disruption to trade and Iranian pressure. As Chatham House expert Neil Quilliam noted in his commentary, Riyadh seeks to assume greater responsibility for regional security while simultaneously demonstrating its own strategic indispensability to Washington. (chathamhouse.org) This is a characteristic Saudi qualification to the widespread European idea of an “America in retreat”: Riyadh is not expecting the United States to disappear from the Middle East, but is seeking to make its dependence on Washington less one-sided.

China’s reaction links the war with Iran to the trade war against Beijing. In China’s official analysis, the U.S.-Iran confrontation is interpreted as the “middle game,” in which Washington’s options are limited: military fatigue, domestic political resistance and electoral pressure are pushing the Trump administration to keep the conflict at a low intensity rather than seek a decisive breakthrough. Xinhua directly links the U.S. shift toward blockades and sanctions to the absence of a convincing military solution. (news.cn) For Beijing, this is not merely an assessment of the American campaign; it is an argument against the model of American coercion itself—force, sanctions and control over financial flows.

This logic became even more apparent in the August exchange of restrictive measures between the United States and China. After Washington imposed measures against Chinese companies and restrictions in the technology sectors, Beijing tightened export controls on drones and their components destined for the United States, introduced restrictions against American organizations and launched the first national-security investigation in the field of foreign trade in its history. China’s Ministry of Commerce called the American actions a violation of agreements reached by the two countries’ leaders and said the countermeasures were “restrained.” (news.cn)

But the Chinese press goes beyond the official formula of a “necessary response.” In an editorial in Global Times, U.S. restrictions on Chinese robots, inverters, photovoltaic products and optical technologies are described as an attempt to build supply chains without China—a project that, the authors argue, will harm America’s own energy sector, AI infrastructure and innovation economy. (opinion.people.com.cn) The Chinese view thus differs from the French and Saudi perspectives: while Paris is concerned by Washington’s unpredictability and Riyadh measures it by its impact on security in the strait, Beijing believes that America is trying to turn the concept of national security into a universal tool of industrial protectionism.

Across all three countries, one common idea is particularly noticeable: Trump’s threats are no longer perceived as an automatic mechanism that forces others to give way. Arab commentator Abdelazim Muhammad Abdelrahim writes in an article for Al Jazeera that the constant escalation and promises of tough action have ceased to produce their previous effect: the limits of the administration’s capabilities have become visible to courts, markets and U.S. rivals alike. (aljazeera.net) French articles reach a similar conclusion through the story of Iran; Chinese ones through the language of “countermeasures” and technological interdependence; Saudi ones through a cold calculation of the cost of security in Hormuz.

The most interesting local conclusion is heard not in Paris or Beijing, but in Riyadh. The Saudi perspective does not assume that a weakening of the United States’ ability to impose its decisions would automatically benefit the region. On the contrary, a less decisive but still heavily armed Washington may be more dangerous than the former American hegemony, because it retains the power to escalate but no longer has sufficient political resources to bring conflicts to a rapid conclusion. French anxiety over unilateral American pressure, Chinese criticism of the “small yard and high fence,” and the Saudi emphasis on the security of shipping converge at one point: the world is learning to live not without American power, but with American power that has become more nervous, more economically driven and less convincing.

❮ ❯

America as a Source of Strategic Uncertainty: China, Australia and Germany on War, Tariffs...

In late August 2026, the United States is being discussed in Beijing, Canberra and Berlin not as the familiar center of the Western order, but as a country whose decisions simultaneously create military, economic and political risks for partners and rivals alike. Three themes stand out in local debates: the protracted US confrontation with Iran and the fate of the Strait of Hormuz; Washington’s new tariff confrontation with Canada; and the broader question of whether security can still be built around American guarantees. The overall conclusion in all three countries differs in tone but coincides in substance: the problem is no longer just Donald Trump as an unpredictable leader, but the fact that US policy is increasingly seen as unconstrained by institutions, alliances and rules.

The most acute issue remains Iran. China’s state-backed expert debate describes the American campaign primarily as a demonstration of diminishing power: military means have not secured a political result for Washington, while the shift toward threats of “economic war” is interpreted as evidence that it lacks a convincing next step. In a CCTV analysis, Niu Xinchun, director of the Institute of Arab Countries at Ningxia University, calls control of the Strait of Hormuz Tehran’s main trump card. Qin Tian, deputy director of the Middle East division at the China Institutes of Contemporary International Relations, goes further, arguing that losing control of the strait would become a symbol of the weakening of American hegemony in the Middle East. This perspective is characteristic: Beijing looks not so much at the military campaign as a standalone crisis as at its significance for the broader balance of power—whether America can impose rules in a region on which Asia’s energy security depends. (news.cctv.com)

The German reaction is markedly less triumphant and far more legalistic. For Berlin and German analytical centers, the danger lies not only in the war’s failure to end, but also in the way it is eroding the regime of freedom of navigation on which Germany’s export economy depends. An analysis by the German Institute for International and Security Affairs explicitly stresses that the status of an international strait cannot be altered either by a coastal state or by an agreement between individual countries to the detriment of third parties; the authors call for the collective defense of maritime law. This is a crucial nuance: German criticism is directed not only at Iranian restrictions on transit, but also at the very idea that Washington has the right to unilaterally reshape the rules governing the passage of ships under the pretext of security. (swp-berlin.org)

In Australia, the same crisis is perceived even more personally—through the price of gasoline, inflation, maritime trade and the country’s involvement in the American military architecture. Australian Minister Kristy McBain warned that the longer the war continues, the greater the impact on households and businesses; opposition spokesman Dan Tehan called the very idea of charging for passage through Hormuz particularly alarming, as it could set a precedent for the South China Sea, a vital route for Australian trade. (abc.net.au) This makes Australia’s specific anxiety especially clear: if the United States can declare itself the arbiter of transit in the Persian Gulf, what will that mean for the future rivalry with China in the Indo-Pacific?

That is why, in Canberra, the debate over Iran quickly turns into a debate over AUKUS—the defense partnership between Australia, the United States and the United Kingdom. In an ABC commentary, political editor Jacob Greber drew an uncomfortable conclusion for the alliance’s supporters: AUKUS “binds Australia to America’s actions, whether it wants that or not.” Former Prime Minister Paul Keating, a longtime opponent of the deal, calls it the worst in the country’s history. Sam Roggeveen of the Lowy Institute, meanwhile, reads Canadian Prime Minister Mark Carney’s call for cooperation among middle powers as a warning: excessive closeness to any great power turns a state into a supplicant. (abc.net.au) This does not mean Australia is turning toward China. On the contrary, the Australian elite still considers the American presence a necessary deterrent. But the local debate increasingly features demands not to replace dependence on the United States with dependence on Beijing, but to build greater strategic autonomy.

This mood is reinforced by a deeper assessment of America’s retreat from Asia. In a recent Lowy Institute article, a researcher argues that Trump did not create America’s retreat; he became its symptom: the United States has fewer reasons and less political will to shoulder its former global commitments. (lowyinstitute.org) For Australia, this is probably the most painful conclusion of all: a change of president in Washington may not restore the former predictability, because American domestic politics itself is increasingly ill-equipped to support the country’s role as guarantor of the regional order.

The tariff dispute with Canada has become a vivid example of why US allies increasingly distrust even economic agreements with Washington. After negotiations collapsed, America’s 50 percent tariffs hit a number of Canadian goods, and from January 1, 2027, Trump promised to extend that level of duties to automobiles, auto parts and steel. Prime Minister Mark Carney responded with a “dollar-for-dollar” formula, saying that Canada had been attacked. (tagesschau.de) German commentators view the conflict as a stress test for the entire North American production system. Handelsblatt correspondent Laurin Meyer put it aptly: the tariff does not “restructure” North America’s economic space; it “taxes its connections.” In the automotive, steel, energy and agricultural sectors, goods cross the border repeatedly before becoming finished products. Political pressure on Canada therefore inevitably returns as higher costs for American companies and consumers. (handelsblatt.com)

In China, this episode is interpreted as confirmation of a long-promoted argument: Washington’s tariffs are not a special instrument aimed at China, but a universal mechanism of pressure, even against its most closely integrated allies. Xinhua describes the current phase as a threefold struggle—for economic resilience, a domestic political base and the negotiating initiative—while noting that Carney’s strategy is to turn the dispute into a problem for US domestic politics and force the White House back to the negotiating table. (news.cn) For Chinese audiences, the Canadian episode itself is less important than the lesson: even deep interdependence, a shared border and the USMCA agreement do not protect against sudden American escalation. This makes China’s argument for diversifying trade and technology links more persuasive not only within the PRC, but also to countries that once regarded the US market as the most reliable.

Germany and Australia do not share China’s desire to declare these developments proof of America’s irreversible decline. Yet they increasingly converge with Beijing on a much narrower, practical diagnosis: the United States has begun using power, sanctions and tariffs in ways that make an alliance with it a source of risk in its own right. The German press speaks of a “trade war” and a dangerous spiral of retaliatory measures; Australian authors write about the cost of dependence and the need to prepare for an America that may take less interest in Asia’s security; Chinese analysts focus on the limitations of US military and economic pressure. (tagesschau.de)

The main international shift, therefore, is not that China, Australia and Germany assess America in the same way. They do not: China sees a strategic opening, Germany a crisis of rules, and Australia the risk of losing sovereign choice. But all three debates increasingly depart from the old assumption that American power automatically produces stability. It is now more often seen as a force whose consequences must be hedged—diplomatically, economically and militarily.

❮ ❯

America as a Source of Coercion, Not Order: What China, Australia and Japan Are Discussing

In recent days, from August 24 to 27, 2026, China, Australia and Japan have been looking at the United States through the same troubling lens: Washington is simultaneously expanding its economic war against Iran, increasing pressure on international institutions and demonstrating a willingness to use trade barriers even in relations with its closest partners. But local reactions differ. In China, this is presented as evidence of the failure of America’s “maximum pressure” policy; in Australia, as a test for an alliance that must be preserved without illusions; and in Japan, as a painful question of whether the country can defend the rules-based international order when its principal ally is attacking it.

The most discussed issue has been the American operation announced on August 24, Economic Outcast—an expansion of secondary sanctions against states, banks, carriers and companies cooperating with Iran. Formally, the aim is to cut off Tehran’s financial, maritime, technological and oil channels. In practice, however, the campaign extends far beyond Iran: it requires third countries to restructure their own trade around American political objectives. Australia’s ABC News analysis of the operation notes that the US administration is still issuing more threats than concrete deadlines and target lists. Former US diplomat Alan Eyre expressed the skepticism in particularly stark terms: the sanctions field has already been exhausted—“we’ve picked the low-hanging fruit, the middle-hanging fruit, the high-hanging fruit—everything on the tree.” For Australian readers, this is not an abstract dispute about the Middle East: a prolonged war means risks to maritime trade, energy prices and the stability of the US alliance strategy.

China’s reaction is even more categorical. In an editorial in Huanqiu Shibao, reprinted by People’s Daily Online, Washington’s “economic D-Day” is described as the wrong scenario: turning finance and trade into weapons, the newspaper argues, will not remain within the boundaries set by the United States but will spread the costs to everyone. What matters here is not only the anti-American tone. Chinese debate identifies a specific contradiction: for Iran’s isolation to work, the United States must be prepared to punish China—the largest buyer of Iranian oil—but Washington is trying to avoid precisely such a confrontation ahead of high-level contacts. Japanese expert Shin Sasaki reaches nearly the same conclusion in Wedge, albeit from a completely different political standpoint: if the sanctions do not affect China’s independent refineries and the banks servicing the transactions, they will remain a “painted rice cake”—a beautiful but inedible picture. This is a rare point of convergence between Chinese and Japanese analysis: both see the campaign not as a sign of limitless American power, but as evidence of the limits of its applicability.

In Beijing, however, this weakness leads to a geopolitical conclusion: the United States is undermining trust in the dollar-based and sanctions infrastructure itself, forcing countries to seek ways around American control. In Tokyo, the conclusion is more cautious and more alarming: the problem is not that pressure on Iran is insufficiently harsh, but that its unpredictability threatens the global economy. In a forecast by the Daiwa Institute of Research, Japanese analysts Daisuke Yahagi and Tsubasa Fujiwara link the shift in America’s emphasis—from military pressure to a combined sanctions strategy—to rising oil prices, problems in the Strait of Hormuz and declining consumer sentiment in the United States itself. In other words, the Japanese perspective is primarily economic: America is trying to reduce the domestic cost of war while shifting uncertainty onto its partners and markets.

The second common theme is the increasingly open conflict between the United States and international law. New sanctions against International Criminal Court President Tomoko Akane, a Japanese citizen, have transformed what was an abstract dispute over the ICC’s jurisdiction into a personal and national issue for Tokyo. In an interview with TBS, Akane called on the Japanese government to clearly reaffirm that it would continue supporting the Court and would not withdraw from it: “the world is watching” to see whether Japan will yield to pressure or support the ICC together with other states. Her broader warning sounds like a diagnosis of the current moment: the normalization of “might makes right” could make it a customary foundation of the world order.

Notably, criticism in Japan is directed not only at Washington but also at Japan’s own caution. Amnesty International Japan, in a statement dated August 25, urged Tokyo not to limit itself to expressions of regret but to publicly seek the sanctions’ cancellation. Prime Minister Sanae Takaichi says Japan will continue pursuing the matter at “the necessary moment,” without revealing its diplomatic cards in advance. This is a typically Japanese dilemma: Japan cannot break with the United States, on which its security depends, but neither can it silently accept an attack on an institution headed by a Japanese judge.

In Australia, the dilemma looks almost like a mirror image. ABC News reports that the government does not support sanctions against the ICC and its personnel, while Australian officials privately describe the Trump administration’s actions as “destructive.” But the public protest remains restrained. The reason is stated openly by ABC’s source: the campaign against the ICC is closely associated with Secretary of State Marco Rubio, who is simultaneously an indispensable partner for Canberra on security issues. Australian foreign policy finds itself in a position where it must defend the rules without directly quarrelling with the person challenging them.

The third theme is trade as a means of political coercion. Australians are particularly sensitive to this after the United States imposed a 12.5 percent tariff on Australian imports, citing forced-labor problems in supply chains. Prime Minister Anthony Albanese is seeking an exemption, reminding Trump that over two decades the United States has run a $442 billion trade surplus with Australia. In an ABC report, Albanese articulated the fundamental disagreement: tariffs are primarily an economic burden for the country imposing them. That has not stopped Canberra from simultaneously emphasizing its commitment to AUKUS and its military alliance with Washington.

For China, it is particularly revealing that the United States is at the same time escalating its tariff dispute with Canada. Chinese commentators view this not as a separate bilateral quarrel but as an example of a new American model: alliance ties no longer provide immunity from economic pressure. Beijing gains a convenient argument to make to countries in Asia and the Global South: dependence on the US market leaves partners vulnerable regardless of their political loyalty. Watching the Canadian case, the Australian public sees not someone else’s drama but a possible scenario for its own dependence on unpredictable exemptions and personal arrangements with the White House.

The common thread running through the Chinese, Japanese and Australian debates is not simply sympathy or antipathy toward Trump. It is the question of the reliability of American power. Chinese authors argue that Washington is no longer capable of imposing its will without incurring serious costs. Japanese analysts fear that American inconsistency will damage both markets and norms. Australians are trying to develop a practical formula for coexisting with an ally who is simultaneously needed to deter China, capable of imposing tariffs on Australia and willing to weaken the international institutions that Australia itself considers essential.

The most unexpected conclusion from these reactions is this: the United States remains the center of global politics, but it is increasingly perceived not as the architect of a predictable order but as a source of risks that others must hedge against—through trade diversification, quiet diplomacy, support for international courts and the search for new coalitions. Beijing welcomes this as a strategic shift. Tokyo and Canberra, by contrast, are learning to live with it, without being able either to distance themselves completely from America or to return to their former confidence in it.

❮ ❯

America as a Source of “Secondary Shocks”: What India, France and Japan Are Saying About...

In recent days, the United States has prompted India, France and Japan not so much to engage in the familiar debate over Donald Trump’s foreign policy as to worry about America’s ability to turn its own crises into global ones. At the center of the discussion are a new round of economic pressure on Iran announced on August 24, including threats against countries and companies that do not join the U.S. line; the vulnerability of the global financial system to problems involving U.S. government debt and the Federal Reserve; and, finally, the entrenchment of tariffs as an instrument not only of trade policy but also of political coercion. U.S. Treasury Secretary Scott Bessent summed up the logic of the new campaign in stark terms: countries that do not support the sanctions regime will “share Tehran’s isolation.” (lemonde.fr)

For India, this is primarily a question of strategic autonomy, not an abstract conflict between Washington and Tehran. Indian media have been particularly concerned about secondary sanctions: direct trade with Iran is already largely limited to humanitarian supplies—food and medicine—but the risks to banks, insurers, shipping companies and intermediary firms remain. A Mint analysis emphasizes precisely this gap between the relatively limited immediate impact on trade and the far more dangerous uncertainty facing businesses. (livemint.com)

India’s distinctive position is that Iran is not merely an energy supplier to New Delhi. It is also a land-sea corridor to Central Asia and Russia through the port of Chabahar, enabling India to bypass routes through Pakistan. Washington’s sanctions escalation is therefore seen as a potential attempt to narrow the space for India’s multi-alignment. Local commentators see a dilemma: yielding to the United States would reduce the risks to relations with Washington, but make India more dependent on sea routes and the political decisions of other powers; resisting, meanwhile, could bring financial consequences. Hence the pragmatism characteristic of the Indian response: the issue is not sympathy for the Iranian regime, but protecting India’s own routes, oil prices and freedom of maneuver.

In France, the tone is different: American pressure on Iran is viewed through the prism of the breakdown of diplomatic rules and the cost of escalation for the European economy. An editorial in Le Monde describes the U.S.-Iran confrontation as a “dead-end” cycle of mutual escalation that is damaging the global economy. (lemonde.fr) French criticism is aimed not simply at Washington’s toughness, but at replacing strategy with a series of measures, each of which raises the cost of the next step: military pressure, the blocking of maritime routes, sanctions and then threats against third countries.

This view is reinforced by very tangible experience. Paris has already extended support measures for sectors suffering from the Middle East crisis and rising petroleum-product prices, including transport, fishing, agriculture and construction. (economie.gouv.fr) For French audiences, therefore, the Strait of Hormuz is not a distant geographical concern, but a risk to household bills and business competitiveness. At the same time, Paris’s position is not synonymous with appeasement toward Iran: Emmanuel Macron has called for a “serious and lasting” agreement with verifiable controls on Iran’s enriched uranium. (publicsenat.fr) France’s objection to the United States lies elsewhere: pressure without a political way out does not contain a crisis; it makes the crisis chronic.

In Japan, the response is the most technocratic and, at the same time, the most nervous. On August 25, Chief Cabinet Secretary Kihara said Tokyo would examine the details of the new U.S. restrictions and analyze their impact on Japanese companies. (nagoyatv.com) This cautious wording reflects Japan’s position: it remains a U.S. ally, but its industry, commercial shipping and energy security are sensitive to any expansion of the extraterritorial sanctions regime. Japanese analysts add an important detail that is often lost in U.S. debates: the sanctions threat may be louder than its actual implementation. In a Wedge Online commentary, the new campaign is described as at risk of becoming a “disappointment”—particularly because Washington may be unwilling to take secondary measures to their limit if doing so would affect relations with China. (wedge.ismedia.jp) In other words, Tokyo is watching not only whom America promises to punish, but also where America itself will draw the line of risk.

Another common theme is doubt over how capable Washington is of maintaining the stability it once provided. The French debate is especially direct in identifying a crisis of confidence in the Federal Reserve: Le Monde writes that the reputation of an institution whose decisions indirectly affect interest rates around the world is at stake. (lemonde.fr) In Japan, this concern has practical implications: rising U.S. bond yields affect the yen’s exchange rate, the cost of financing and the value of Japan’s enormous holdings of U.S. debt. Japanese economist Taku Imamura, writing in Business Insider Japan, interprets Washington’s recent moves in the debt market as a sign that the administration’s political “self-preservation” is turning into nervousness. (businessinsider.jp)

Tariff policy completes the picture. For France, it has become proof that access to the U.S. market is increasingly paid for with political and investment concessions: the French customs service lists the current system of U.S. measures under Sections 232 and 301, as well as European concessions made in response to agreements with the United States. (douane.gouv.fr) In India, the final U.S. measures under Section 301 placed the country in the 10 percent tariff category, although a number of key export goods—including generic drugs and smartphones—were exempted from the additional surcharge. (pib.gov.in) In Japan, an agreement with the United States formally caps some tariffs at 15 percent, but at the same time links them to major investment commitments in the U.S. economy. (meti.go.jp)

The overall conclusion from the Indian, French and Japanese responses is that America remains an indispensable power, but is increasingly seen as an unpredictable guarantor of order. India is trying to preserve its freedom of choice, France to restore the independent value of diplomacy and international rules, and Japan to calculate the consequences and minimize the damage to its alliance with the United States. What unites them is not anti-Americanism, but a new caution: decisions in Washington are now judged not by their stated objective, but by the “secondary shock” they will deliver to other countries’ trade, energy supplies, currencies and foreign-policy autonomy.

❮ ❯

America Between Moscow, Kyiv and Berlin: Why Trust Is the Week’s Main Fault Line

In German, Russian and Ukrainian discussions about the United States, three storylines have converged in recent days: CIA Director John Ratcliffe’s unexpected visit to Moscow on August 25, Washington’s attempt to shift from war with Iran to economic coercion, and the ongoing reassessment of the American military presence in Europe. On the surface, these are separate stories. But local commentators see one question connecting them: Is America acting as a guarantor of order, as a negotiator seeking a quick deal, or as a power ready at any moment to redistribute its commitments in line with its domestic political needs?

Ratcliffe’s visit became a particularly striking symbol of this uncertainty. Russia’s reaction has been notably restrained and pragmatic. The Kremlin confirmed only contacts through the intelligence services, emphasizing that there had been no meeting with Vladimir Putin; RBC presented this wording as a deliberate effort to limit public expectations surrounding the trip. In RBC’s report, what matters is not only the official brevity but also the context: the visit comes at a time when Moscow and Washington, judging by leaks and comments, appear to be trying to maintain a direct channel outside high-profile diplomacy.

Russian experts quoted by Gazeta.Ru interpret the CIA director’s arrival primarily as an attempt to clarify the “red lines” ahead of autumn: Russia’s plans at the front, the risk of strikes that could affect NATO countries, and the possibility of interim agreements where Moscow and Kyiv’s positions are incompatible. For Russia’s public sphere, this is neither a sign of capitulation nor a breakthrough, but evidence that the United States is forced to speak directly with Russia when the stakes are too high for exchanging statements through press offices. Even the possibility that Iran was part of the agenda reflects a broader Russian view: the more crises Washington is managing simultaneously, the greater Moscow’s diplomatic value as an interlocutor that cannot be ignored.

In Kyiv, the same Ratcliffe aircraft is viewed in almost the opposite way. Ukrainian anxiety is not about the very fact of U.S.-Russian contact—it is inevitable—but about the risk that negotiations over the war could be conducted around Ukraine without Ukraine. Ukraine’s OstoV cites Igor Petrenko, head of the United Ukraine analytical center, who assesses that the visit could have been both a warning to Moscow and a test of whether there is an opening for a genuine dialogue before winter. But Petrenko believes Russia’s leadership is not prepared to abandon pressure on Donbas, meaning that the trip itself does not indicate that a compromise has already been found.

The Ukrainian sense of alarm is expressed even more sharply in an analysis by RBC-Ukraine: political analyst Volodymyr Fesenko suggests that Ratcliffe may have come not so much to bargain as to deliver a “tough warning” about the price of further escalation. This interpretation is important: Kyiv prefers to see the United States as a force for deterrence, rather than as an arbiter mechanically averaging the parties’ positions. That is why reports that the Ukrainian side was asked to temporarily refrain from certain strikes while the delegation was visiting are seen as a painful test: Is Washington prepared to restrict Kyiv in order to preserve its own negotiating channel with Moscow? (amp.dw.com)

Germany views this secret dialogue with a different kind of concern. For Berlin, the issue is not whether negotiations will take place, but whether European security will become a secondary subject of an American-Russian bargain. In a column for Die Zeit, the publication’s head of politics, Heinrich Wefing, formulates an uncomfortable thought for German readers: Germany still depends on the United States not only for defense, but also for technology, digital infrastructure and financial platforms. In other words, the discussion of “strategic autonomy” in Berlin is no longer an intellectual fashion; it has become an acknowledgment of vulnerability.

That vulnerability is compounded by the reassessment of the American military presence. Deutsche Welle writes that the Pentagon is evaluating the deployment of forces in Europe based on the principle that Europeans should assume primary responsibility for their own conventional defense. In Germany, this formula is viewed ambivalently. On the one hand, it has long reflected what some members of the German establishment themselves demanded: Europe must stop “outsourcing” its security to America. On the other hand, independence cannot be created by a single political decision, especially when it comes to air defense, strategic aviation, intelligence, logistics and long-range deterrence.

Military expert Carlo Masala, in an interview summarized by Deutsche Welle, calls a potential pause in the deployment of American long-range missiles particularly dangerous: it would create a gap in deterrence against Russia that European systems would be unable to fill anytime soon. Here, the German reaction unexpectedly intersects with the Ukrainian one. Kyiv is demanding not abstract diplomatic activity from the United States, but concrete air-defense systems and pressure on Russia; in August reports about contacts with Washington, Ukrainian representatives directly linked peace initiatives to the need to defend the skies. (amp.dw.com) Germany, meanwhile, fears that a reduction in American involvement could make such shortages a pan-European norm.

The third issue—Iran—turns these doubts into a systemic question about the nature of American power. In Berlin, Washington’s shift toward promises of the “toughest sanctions in history” after weeks of war is being read not as a demonstration of confidence, but as an admission of the limits of the military outcome. The German edition of Deutsche Welle notes that the Trump administration needs a result ahead of the November midterm elections and is therefore trying to turn the military campaign into an economic “finale.” German criticism in this case is not reducible to pacifism: many commentators believe that an inconsistent war is worse and more dangerous than a clear strategy because it simultaneously undermines alliances, raises risks in the Persian Gulf and offers no political way out.

In Russian discussions, Iran, by contrast, is viewed as an additional source of negotiating leverage. The logic is as follows: if the United States is unable to end the conflict quickly and needs regional mediation, Russia gains another argument in its direct dialogue with Washington. This is precisely why Russian authors readily embrace theories that Ratcliffe discussed not only Ukraine in Moscow, but also the Middle East. That does not necessarily mean an agreement exists; rather, the Russian audience sees America’s overextension as evidence that the era when Washington could impose rules simultaneously in Europe, the Middle East and Asia is coming to an end.

The Ukrainian perspective is the bleakest here. For Kyiv, America’s war with Iran is dangerous not only because it diverts resources. It creates a political incentive to “close the Ukrainian file” more quickly—possibly through an arrangement that would halt the intensity of the fighting without eliminating the cause of the war or providing Ukraine with reliable guarantees. Serhii Kyslytsia, deputy head of the Office of the President, said directly in an interview with Deutsche Welle that American mediation had not stopped, but he saw no motivation on Vladimir Putin’s part for substantive negotiations. In the Ukrainian reading, this is the central contradiction of the moment: America wants results, but Russia, in Kyiv’s view, still believes that time is working in its favor.

The most unexpected common feature of the reactions in Germany, Russia and Ukraine is that almost no one disputes that the United States remains an indispensable power. The disagreement concerns something else: Can it still be considered predictable? In Moscow, Washington’s unpredictability is seen as room for bargaining and the restoration of direct channels. In Kyiv, it is seen as the risk of a deal in which the country’s security becomes a bargaining chip. In Berlin, it is a painful reminder that European sovereignty was postponed for decades precisely because the American guarantee seemed eternal. Thus, today’s image of the United States outside America is not that of a declining power. It is the image of a power whose decisions still determine the security of others, but whose priorities are becoming increasingly difficult to predict.

❮ ❯

Escalation Around Iran: Sanctions, Threats and Diplomacy

The United States is increasing pressure on Iran by discussing new sanctions and possible military action, while Tehran prepares for confrontation. Regional and international players are trying to contain the escalation, and China may resist American economic pressure. Amid the struggle for influence, the humanitarian consequences of sanctions and the risks to security across the region are becoming increasingly apparent. This material was prepared based on publications by asharq.com (Saudi Arabia).

Riyadh Monitors U.S. Pressure on Iran and Oil Security

Reports of an adjustment in the American approach to Iran are attracting particular attention from Saudi Arabia and other Persian Gulf countries, primarily because of the situation in the Strait of Hormuz. For the region, this is not merely a route in the U.S.-Iran confrontation, but a critically important artery for oil exports and the foundation of the global energy market’s stability.

According to Asharq, citing American leaks and sources reported by Axios and Reuters, U.S. Secretary of State Marco Rubio informed Washington’s allies that the U.S. administration “at this time” does not expect any new strikes on Iran. According to the sources, the American policy is centered on avoiding a large-scale military operation in the immediate future, increasing economic pressure through sanctions and a naval blockade, and ensuring the maximum possible volume of oil shipments through the Strait of Hormuz.

For Saudi Arabia, reducing the risk of a major war near its borders is of direct importance. An armed escalation between the United States and Iran could affect oil infrastructure, maritime shipping, military facilities and civilian sites in the region’s countries. Protecting export routes therefore remains not only a commercial task, but also a factor in financial stability, energy security and the implementation of the kingdom’s long-term development programs.

American sources describe the clearing of mines from the waterway and the growing number of vessels passing through it as signs that Tehran’s ability to use the strait as leverage is weakening. One source said that the mine-clearing operation had become “a turning point in the war.” Washington also claims: “The Iranians have lost control of the strait, and now the United States controls it.” However, this wording reflects the American side’s assessment rather than an independent conclusion by the source.

Pressure on Iran’s leadership remains at the center of the American strategy. According to one U.S. official, “we are not negotiating with Iran right now—we are putting pressure on it.” This policy entails further restricting Tehran’s economic resources, military capabilities and remaining sources of government funding. In the Saudi—and more broadly, Gulf—context, this approach is viewed through a dual lens: the desire to prevent Iran from acquiring nuclear weapons and reduce the capabilities of armed groups linked to it is combined with the need to avoid a war whose cost would be borne by the entire region.

Regional intermediaries may play a particularly important role in this situation. The reported contacts between Pakistan’s army chief, Asim Munir, and Washington and Tehran underscore the demand for de-escalation channels. For the Gulf states, mediation remains an important tool for preventing a conflict that could threaten shipping, energy exports and the security of neighboring countries.

Saudi concerns about the risks are not abstract. The kingdom has already faced threats to its oil infrastructure, including the attacks of 2019, while the war in Yemen was accompanied by missile strikes and drone attacks. These events heightened Riyadh’s focus on the security of maritime routes, the protection of energy facilities and the containment of regional crises.

At the same time, the restoration of diplomatic relations between Saudi Arabia and Iran in 2023 increased the importance of dialogue and tension reduction. Therefore, the strategy of pressure described by American sources—without an immediate transition to large-scale strikes—corresponds to a key interest of the Gulf states: preventing the region from becoming a theater of open war.

The Asharq article contains no direct statements from Saudi officials or experts. Its Saudi perspective is reflected in its choice of key issues—the security of the Strait of Hormuz, the unhindered movement of tankers, the threat of new strikes and the possibility of mediation. From this perspective, the effectiveness of U.S. policy is measured not only by the degree of pressure placed on Iran, but also by whether it will be possible to preserve energy-market stability and protect the vital interests of the Persian Gulf countries.

❮ ❯

America as a Source of Risk, Not a Guarantee of Order: What Israel, South Korea and China Are...

In the Israeli, South Korean and Chinese press, discussion of America in recent days has focused not on a single statement by Donald Trump, but on a broader question: can Washington’s policy of coercion—military threats, a naval blockade, secondary sanctions and pressure on allies—actually restore order, or does it merely push crises into a new, more costly and unpredictable phase? Iran and the Strait of Hormuz have been at the center of the debate, but two other issues are visible behind them: the price of the American alliance and Washington’s readiness to turn access to the dollar system into an instrument of global discipline. (hani.co.kr)

In Israel, the reaction to the American line is mixed. On the one hand, U.S. firmness toward Iran is seen as a necessary continuation of the broader campaign to contain Tehran. On the other, concern is growing that Trump could trade Israel’s long-term interests for a short-term deal to reopen the Strait of Hormuz and lower oil prices. In a commentary for Walla, Professor Uzi Rabi describes a possible “Trump victory” as a package consisting of freedom of navigation, calmer energy markets and a regional political realignment. But his key warning is that an agreement giving Iran economic and political space before its main instruments of power are dismantled would become not a mechanism of containment, but a mechanism for restoring Tehran. (news.walla.co.il)

Israeli commentators are particularly troubled by the inconsistency of U.S. tactics. Trump alternately speaks of being ready for negotiations and rules them out; he threatens to declare Hormuz “American territory,” then relies on pressure without launching a new major operation. In a Ynet analysis, this is interpreted not simply as presidential eccentricity, but as a symptom of failed coordination: according to the author, Israel does not understand the American position on Hormuz, even though the strait remains Iran’s main strategic asset in the war. For Israeli audiences, this represents an important and rather unexpected shift: the danger is now seen not only in an Iranian missile or nuclear infrastructure, but also in the possibility that the United States could independently determine the terms for ending the conflict, leaving Israel to deal with the consequences. (ynet.co.il)

In South Korea, the same American policy is viewed primarily through the lens of the export economy’s vulnerability and dependence on energy from the Middle East. The Korean debate is less focused on whether Washington will defeat Iran and more on why an ally is demanding political and possibly practical support from Seoul in a conflict whose consequences would be particularly severe for Korea. After Trump publicly expressed displeasure at Seoul’s refusal to participate in the operation around Hormuz, the Korean press noted that President Lee Jae-myung had effectively found himself caught between his alliance obligations to the United States and the national interest of avoiding becoming a party to the war. The Chosun Ilbo quoted Trump as saying he was “unhappy” with Korea’s refusal to help, while also emphasizing the country’s dependence on supplies passing through the strait. (chosun.com)

In South Korea, however, the dispute extends far beyond oil. The Hankyoreh calls the American campaign against Iran an “operation of isolation” and warns that secondary sanctions could affect Korean companies and financial institutions even if their direct ties to Iran are limited. In the Korean reading, the problem is that the United States demands solidarity while leaving its allies to bear the commercial, energy and diplomatic risks. This also explains fears of South Korea being “sidelined” on another sensitive issue—possible Washington–Pyongyang contacts: if the White House is capable of conducting Middle East diplomacy without regard for its partners, why would it not do the same on the Korean Peninsula? (hani.co.kr)

China’s reaction most sharply rejects the very principle of American pressure. Chinese media and experts describe the new U.S. measures not as sanctions in the narrow sense, but as an attempt to create an “economic Cold War” against Iran and force third countries to choose between trade with Tehran and access to the American financial system. In an analysis by The Paper, Sun Degang, director of the Middle East Studies Center at Fudan University, says that after the 60-day negotiating window ends, the United States seeks to “wear Iran down” economically, while Iran is becoming increasingly prepared for an active military response to force Washington to make concessions. His formula—“a post-American era in the Persian Gulf”—is telling: the Chinese debate sees the crisis as evidence not of American omnipotence, but of the limits of U.S. power. (thepaper.cn)

At the same time, the Chinese view is not limited to ideological condemnation of Washington. A Pengpai article emphasizes the practical weakness of the American strategy: Iran has long adapted to sanctions, and an attempt to completely cut off its trade and financial channels could push Tehran toward a new round of military escalation and even more aggressive use of Hormuz. Beijing also sees U.S. calls to join the restrictions as a direct test of its own sovereignty in foreign trade. China’s official position is expressed diplomatically—Beijing calls for a political settlement and says that “economic war” and “maximum pressure” only intensify the conflict—but its meaning is clear: China does not want the United States to turn the sanctions regime against Iran into a universal mechanism for controlling Chinese companies and energy supplies. (zaobao.com.sg)

A striking common picture therefore emerges. Israel fears that America will conclude an overly narrow deal and underestimate Iran’s remaining potential; South Korea fears that its alliance with the United States will become a one-sided distribution of risks; and China fears that American financial pressure will be extended to everyone who refuses to accept Washington’s foreign-policy objectives. All three reactions converge on one point: the United States remains the central force in the crisis, but is no longer automatically perceived as its neutral arbiter or guarantor of a stable order. To some, it is too inclined toward compromise; to others, too inclined toward coercion. It is precisely this contradiction that makes American policy the main focus of international anxiety today.

❮ ❯

America as a Source of Risk: China, Israel and Japan Debate the Cost

In recent days, the United States has found itself at the center of a simultaneous military, economic and legal crisis—and in China, Israel and Japan, it is being discussed very differently than in Washington. The main irritant is the Trump administration’s August 24 decision to expand the regime of “economic isolation” against Iran: aviation, crypto assets, gold, shipping and technology were placed under restrictions, while around 60 Iran-linked individuals, companies and vessels were added to sanctions lists. But local commentators see a larger question behind this episode: Can Washington use military force, the dollar infrastructure and its alliance commitments without ultimately shifting the costs onto its partners and the global economy? (thepaper.cn)

China’s response is the harshest and most ideologically coherent. The debate in Beijing is not limited to defending Iran as a trading partner; it is centered on opposition to America’s extraterritorial sanctions power. In an editorial published by Global Times on August 22, the new campaign was described as an attempt to force third countries to choose between the United States and Iran according to the formula “whoever is not with us is against us.” The authors insist that accepting this logic would mean international trade would cease to be interaction among sovereign states and become a system in which every movement of goods requires Washington’s political approval. In an editorial reprinted by The Paper, this is stated in particularly direct terms: China “will not play along with the United States” on the Iran issue. (thepaper.cn)

It is notable that Chinese analysts do not portray the sanctions as a sign of American confidence. On the contrary, they interpret them as an acknowledgment of a military and diplomatic deadlock. Sun Degang, a professor and director of Fudan University’s Center for Middle Eastern Studies, says in an analysis for The Paper that the roles are changing: the United States is seeking to wear Iran down through an “economic cold war,” while Tehran is attempting to use military pressure to force Washington to make concessions more quickly. In this interpretation, the American strategy does not resolve the problem of the Strait of Hormuz; instead, it turns the strait into an instrument of prolonged bargaining, while the risk of a new direct confrontation continues to grow. (thepaper.cn)

A particularly important Chinese detail, easy to miss when reading American news, is that the debate in the PRC links Iran not only to the Middle East but also to the future of China’s financial sovereignty. U.S. Treasury Secretary Scott Bessent’s threat to disconnect entities assisting Iran from the dollar system is seen as a test of Washington’s readiness to use the dollar not merely as a means of pressuring an adversary, but as a disciplinary mechanism against any banks and countries that refuse to follow the American line. Chinese authors are therefore debating not so much whether Iran will hold out as how far the United States is prepared to go in punishing those conducting what Beijing considers legitimate foreign trade. (thepaper.cn)

In Israel, the picture is more complicated: there is far less doubt that Iran must be contained, but considerably more concern about the quality and predictability of American leadership. Israeli commentator Itamar Eichner, in an analysis for Ynet, describes the strikes and sanctions not as a consistent strategy for victory, but as a form of negotiation “with bombs.” In his view, Trump does not want another full-scale war, but is simultaneously seeking to punish Tehran, force it into substantive negotiations, demonstrate toughness to American voters and prevent a surge in oil prices ahead of the midterm elections. This is a distinctly Israeli view of the United States: the White House is seen not as an unconditional strategic anchor, but as an actor whose decisions increasingly depend on domestic political circumstances. (ynet.co.il)

There is also a more painful line of criticism in the Israeli press. Military correspondent Ron Ben-Yishai warns in a Ynet column that Israel risks becoming a “U.S. appendage”: Trump alternately threatens Iran and backs down, while Israel is becoming less and less able to influence its own strategic destiny. This is an important difference from the Chinese narrative. Beijing accuses America of hegemony; Israel fears not an excess of American power, but its inconsistency. For a country that relies on American military and diplomatic support, the U.S. president’s abrupt reversals represent not an abstract geopolitical risk but the threat of losing independent control over war and peace. (ynet.co.il)

At the same time, Israel’s business press views the American sanctions more pragmatically than political commentators do. Globes notes that the new campaign will be judged not by the volume of official statements, but by whether Iran’s financial and trade channels can actually be shut down—primarily through the Persian Gulf states. The publication also draws attention to the cost of the campaign: Brent crude is already trading above $90 a barrel amid concerns about supplies and the Strait of Hormuz. The Israeli perspective is therefore dual: pressure on Iran is considered necessary, but Israelis are not convinced that American economic escalation will force Tehran to capitulate rather than encourage it to launch new strikes and cause even greater regional destabilization. (globes.co.il)

Japan sees the same events primarily through the vulnerability of its own economy and through the crisis of international law. In Japan’s energy debate, the Strait of Hormuz ceased long ago to be a distant point in the Middle East: Japan imports around 90% of its oil from Middle Eastern countries. The U.S.-Iran conflict is therefore viewed through the historical memory of the oil shocks of the 1970s. In an article for Nikkei Book Plus, experts directly raise the question of a “new oil crisis”: even after the June ceasefire, the mutual attacks continued, while disruptions to shipping in the Strait of Hormuz could turn a regional conflict into an inflationary and industrial shock for Japan. (bookplus.nikkei.com)

But what stirred Japanese public reaction even more strongly was not Iran, but the American sanctions against Tomoko Akane, president of the International Criminal Court—a Japanese national who heads the ICC. After the U.S. decision of August 18, Tokyo limited itself to the formula “deep regret.” Formally, this is a diplomatic protest, but within Japan it was considered too cautious. According to nippon.com, lawmakers demanded that the sanctions be revoked and that Akane be “protected”; the government of Prime Minister Sanae Takaichi was criticized for its “weak diplomacy.” (nippon.com)

Akane herself responded not with a political slogan but in the language of principles. In a comment quoted by TBS Cross Dig, she said that the key thing was “not to let this become the beginning of the end of the international rule of law.” This is especially sensitive for the Japanese: the country is one of the ICC’s key financial supporters, and American sanctions are now targeting a citizen of an allied country who works at an institution that Japan publicly supports. (newsdig.tbs.co.jp)

This is where the Chinese and Japanese reactions converge, albeit for different reasons. China criticizes America’s ability to unilaterally punish foreign banks, companies and states for their ties with Iran. Japan is encountering the same problem in another form: the American sanctions apparatus can target a Japanese lawyer and an international court that Tokyo regards as part of the rules-based global order. The difference is that China turns this into an argument against American hegemony, while the Japanese debate asks whether the alliance with the United States has a limit beyond which Tokyo must defend its own institutions, citizens and legal obligations.

Ultimately, China, Israel and Japan are now arguing about different aspects of American policy, but they share one diagnosis: Washington is increasingly acting through coercion—sanction-based, military or financial—without offering a convincing mechanism for resolving the crisis. China sees a threat to sovereign trade; Israel sees the risk of dependence on an impulsive ally; Japan sees a threat to energy security and international law. The most unexpected common feature of these reactions is that the issue is no longer whether the United States is strong enough to impose its will. The question being voiced ever more loudly in Beijing, Tel Aviv and Tokyo is a different one: Who will pay for American power if it fails to produce a stable order?

❮ ❯

America as a Source of Risk, Not Order: What Turkey, Saudi Arabia and Germany Say About the...

In Turkey, Saudi Arabia and Germany, discussions of the United States in recent days have focused not simply on Donald Trump as an individual, but on a more troubling question: Is America still capable of serving as an organizing force in international politics—or has it itself become the main source of unpredictability? The immediate trigger was a new phase in the U.S.-Iran confrontation. After the 60-day period for the framework agreement with Tehran expired, Washington moved to threaten Iran with unprecedented economic isolation and secondary sanctions against countries and companies that continue to do business with it. On August 24, U.S. Treasury Secretary Scott Bessent explicitly called the policy an “economic exclusion operation.” (aa.com.tr)

The broadest reaction in all three countries is distrust toward the idea that military pressure and sanctions will bring the crisis closer to resolution. But the reasons for this distrust differ. In the Turkish debate, America is seen primarily as a force capable of drawing the neighboring region into war and striking Turkey itself. In Saudi Arabia, it is viewed as an indispensable but increasingly unpredictable security partner whose decisions directly threaten oil infrastructure, the investment climate and economic-diversification projects. In Germany, it is regarded as an ally whose policy is becoming both necessary and strategically unreliable.

For Turkish commentators, the main issue is not an abstract dispute over Iran’s nuclear program, but the danger of “managed escalation” that could cease to be manageable at any moment. In an analysis by Anadolu Ajansı, Marmara University lecturer Bilgehan Alagöz describes the current phase as a combination of limited military operations, sanctions and diplomatic pressure: in his assessment, neither the United States nor Iran seeks total war, but both are prepared to raise the stakes in pursuit of their own political objectives. (aa.com.tr) For Ankara, what is particularly dangerous about this formula is that regional states become not observers, but the territory through which the conflict passes: bases, airspace, trade routes, migration flows and the Kurdish issue immediately become elements of someone else’s war.

This explains why the Turkish discussion of the United States is far more practical and alarming than rhetoric about the “geopolitics of great powers.” In a DW Türkçe article, the conflict over the Strait of Hormuz is examined through the lenses of inflation, the current-account deficit and oil prices: for energy-importing Turkey, a prolonged blockade of the sea route would directly worsen its economic outlook. (amp.dw.com) Meanwhile, the Turkish expert debate, reflected in another DW analysis, has embraced the formula of “active neutrality”: staying out of the war, strengthening its own security and at the same time maintaining a role as mediator. (amp.dw.com) This is an important local distinction: in the Turkish view, success does not mean an American victory over Iran, but preventing an American move that would force Turkey to choose between alliance commitments, border security and relations with its neighbors.

In Saudi Arabia, the same American policy is viewed through the prism of the Gulf’s vulnerability. The question here is not whether Washington is acting forcefully enough against Iran, but whether it is making the region pay for a strategy developed outside it. Discussing the U.S.-Iran crisis, Al Riyadh outlines three possible horizons for the Arabian Peninsula—peace, war or nuclear proliferation—and stresses the need for a regional strategic balance capable of preventing chaos. (a5.alriyadh.com) From this perspective, the United States is not a guarantor of stability that follows automatically, but a participant in the crisis whose signals must constantly be double-checked.

The Saudi press has placed particular emphasis on the idea that the conflict has not only a military but also an economic dimension. In the Saudi newspaper Al Watan, the U.S. war with Iran is presented as part of a broader regional realignment in which American support for Israel is intensifying concerns among Arab societies. The paper also notes a shift within America itself: an increasingly visible share of American public opinion is asking whether Washington has become entangled in a war that is difficult to end. (alwatan.com.sa) For Riyadh, this domestic American debate has practical significance: if the White House can change course under pressure from its own political environment, Saudi security cannot be built solely on the expectation of consistency from Washington.

This leads to a more unexpected Saudi conclusion: Gulf stability must be created not only through an American military presence, but also through regional diplomacy, economic interdependence and alternative channels of mediation. Saudi assessments recall China’s role in restoring Saudi-Iranian relations in 2023—not as a replacement for the United States in every respect, but as proof that Washington’s monopoly on negotiations in the region is no longer taken for granted. (alwatan.com.sa) This is not anti-Americanism in its purest form; rather, it is a demand for insurance against American impulsiveness.

The German reaction to the same events raises the question of the quality of American leadership most sharply. German commentators do not dispute that Iran is capable of destabilizing the Middle East and threatening shipping, but they much more often link the current impasse to the White House’s inconsistency. In an interview with Tagesschau, Sascha Lohmann, a political scientist at the German Institute for International and Security Affairs, says bluntly: “Trump’s policy is characterized by a lack of strategy.” The immediate occasion was Washington’s proposal for a fee on passage through the Strait of Hormuz, which the president quickly abandoned. (tagesschau.de)

This criticism intensified after the August statements about an “economic D-Day” for Iran. Tagesschau notes that Germany sees the new threat of economic warfare not as evidence of a carefully planned escalation ladder, but as an attempt to compensate for the lack of progress both militarily and diplomatically. (tagesschau.de) In the German reading, Trump’s problem is not merely his toughness: sanctions, threats of strikes, announcements of negotiations and subsequent denials create a situation in which the adversary tests U.S. resolve while allies cannot plan their own course.

This is where all three national debates converge. Turkish observers fear that the United States will expand the war to Turkey’s borders and undermine economic stability. Saudi observers fear that Washington’s struggle with Iran will turn the Gulf states into hostages to attacks on energy infrastructure and maritime communications. German observers fear that American unpredictability is depriving the Western alliance of its strategic foundation. In other words, in all three countries the United States is no longer discussed solely as a superpower capable of using force. It is being discussed as a state whose decisions create secondary risks for its partners.

The most substantive local conclusion sounds paradoxical: neither Ankara, nor Riyadh, nor Berlin is proposing simply to “move away from America.” Turkey seeks to preserve room for mediation, Saudi Arabia aims to combine its partnership with the United States with regional balance, and Germany wants to maintain the transatlantic alliance while also strengthening European autonomy. But in every case, the same new norm is emerging: cooperation with the United States no longer means automatic trust in the United States. The Hormuz crisis has become a test for these countries not only of America’s power, but also of its ability to turn power into order—and it is precisely this ability that is increasingly being called into question.

❮ ❯

Washington Pressures Iran as Brazil, Turkey and Russia Read Their Own Script

In recent days, the United States has prompted not one but several layers of reaction in Brazil, Turkey and Russia. The main one is the Donald Trump administration’s shift from military confrontation with Iran to its promised “economic war”: on August 20, the White House threatened severe consequences not only for Tehran but also for any country whose banks, companies, airports or government institutions provide Iran with a “lifeline.” For Ankara, this is not abstract geopolitics but a risk to trade, energy prices and Turkey’s role as a mediator. In Russian discussions, it appears to be an attempt by the United States to extend its sanctions jurisdiction far beyond its own borders. In Brazil, by contrast, another front is much more prominent: the dispute with Washington over tariffs, digital regulation and the country’s right to set its own economic and political agenda. (amp.rbc.ru)

The Turkish reaction is particularly revealing because American pressure on Iran is being assessed there as both a threat and an opportunity. The threat is obvious: Turkey is a major energy importer, Iran’s neighbor and a country with extensive economic ties across the region. In an analysis for Anadolu Ajansı, expert Taha Eğri directly links the conflict around Iran to rising Turkish fuel-import costs, inflation, higher transportation and insurance costs, and weakening exporter competitiveness. But he also points to a less obvious aspect: the search for routes bypassing the Persian Gulf could increase Turkey’s importance as a transit hub for Iraqi oil and new logistics links with the Arabian Peninsula. In other words, Ankara is not merely worried about American escalation—it is trying to turn geography into a diplomatic and commercial asset. (aa.com.tr)

This explains the cautious tone of Turkey’s leadership. In a conversation with Trump on August 18, Recep Tayyip Erdoğan urged him not to close the diplomatic channel with Tehran and emphasized Turkey’s readiness to support peace efforts, according to the Presidential Communications Directorate of Türkiye. In an interview with Al Jazeera, Erdoğan put the position even more forcefully: “we are definitely not for war; we are for peace,” while simultaneously assigning Israel primary responsibility for the conflict’s expansion. For a Turkish audience, this is not merely a moral statement: it reflects the desire to end up neither in an American-Iranian confrontation nor in the camp of those obliged to comply with secondary sanctions. (iletisim.gov.tr)

Independent Turkish commentators add an important qualification to the official line: the problem is not the lack of elegant diplomatic formulas, but the fact that the truce itself was too vague. In a Medyascope analysis, Gülenay Kırnalı writes that the June agreement did not resolve the key disputes—from Iran’s nuclear and missile programs to sanctions, oil exports and control of the Strait of Hormuz—but merely paused the conflict. Her main conclusion criticizes not only Tehran but also Washington: Trump has become hostage to two incompatible promises—to withdraw America from its “forever wars” and to achieve a swift, unquestionable victory over Iran. In the Turkish view, the cost of this contradiction is measured not only in terms of U.S. grand strategy in the Far East, but also in gasoline prices, inflation and security along Turkey’s own borders. (medyascope.tv)

In Russia, Washington’s current turn is being discussed primarily as a change of instrument rather than objective: after the strikes and an unstable truce, the United States is attempting to isolate Iran financially and force third countries to choose between relations with Tehran and access to the American economy. The magazine Expert describes the possible arrangement as a “belt of financial filters” around Iran and lists Turkey, Iraq, India, the South Caucasus and Central Asia among those most vulnerable to such pressure. This is a characteristic emphasis in Russian analysis: American policy is assessed less by its stated goal—not allowing Iran to develop a nuclear program—than by its extraterritorial impact, namely Washington’s ability to punish states that are formally not parties to the conflict. (expert.ru)

Russian business and international publications, meanwhile, see the new U.S. policy not as a sign of absolute strength but as an acknowledgment of the limits of military success. In recounting the global press reaction to the expiration of the 60-day deadline for a deal, Kommersant highlighted the idea that Trump had discovered he lacked the leverage to achieve the war’s initial objectives. RBC, for its part, noted that the American strategy was shifting from an attempt to strike quickly to an intention to slowly “strangle” Iran economically. From the Russian perspective, this means the Strait of Hormuz is becoming not merely a maritime corridor but a test of the limits of American coercion: a blockade may create pressure, but it also increases risks for the global oil market, U.S. allies and neutral states. (amp.rbc.ru)

Brazil’s reaction to the Iranian crisis is noticeably less emotional, but it makes the broader theme particularly clear: protecting sovereignty from American economic policy. Brazil’s agenda is currently focused on the new 25 percent U.S. tariff on a significant share of Brazilian goods and on a Washington investigation whose complaints concern not only trade but also Pix, digital payments, technology-company regulation, intellectual-property protection, ethanol, deforestation and anti-corruption practices. In a conversation with Trump on August 21, President Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva called the American grounds for the tariffs unfounded; Brasília is simultaneously insisting on negotiations and consultations at the WTO while preparing to invoke its own Reciprocity Law. The state-run agency Agência Brasil reported on this in detail. (agenciabrasil.ebc.com.br)

There is, however, no unanimity in Brazil over the practical response. As CNN Brasil notes, the government’s political wing sees a forceful response as an opportunity to reaffirm the long-standing Lulaist formula of an “active and dignified” foreign policy that does not submit to the dictates of great powers. The economic bloc fears that retaliatory tariffs would amount to “shooting oneself in the foot,” as they would raise costs within Brazil itself. This debate makes the Brazilian view the most pragmatic of the three: the question is not whether Washington is morally right, but how to protect national autonomy without turning symbolic sovereignty into additional inflation and industrial losses. (cnnbrasil.com.br)

The most unexpected common feature among the three countries is that none of them views U.S. actions exclusively through slogans about security or democracy. In Turkey, American pressure on Iran represents the risk of an energy shock and, at the same time, a contest for new transit routes. In Russia, it is an example of how sanctions and financial infrastructure are becoming weapons against entire regions. In Brazil, it is a continuation of an already unfolding dispute over whether Washington has the right to tie access to its market to demands concerning another country’s domestic regulation, digital sovereignty and political decisions. The tone and interests differ, but the general conclusion is similar: Trump’s America is perceived not as a distant arbiter but as a force that translates foreign-policy conflicts into the language of tariffs, payments, logistics and the everyday cost of living.

❮ ❯

An America That No Longer Guarantees Order

In Indian, French and Turkish discussions of America in recent days, the dominant issue has not been yet another diplomatic scandal, but a more troubling question: is Donald Trump’s administration capable of ending the war it started itself, and what price will the rest of the world pay for its inability to do so? The focus is on the protracted US confrontation with Iran, the de facto blockade of the Strait of Hormuz, the threat of secondary economic penalties against countries trading with Tehran, and the resulting desire of regional powers to hedge against American unpredictability. The difference between New Delhi, Paris and Ankara is that India is primarily counting barrels of oil and assessing the vulnerability of its supplies, France sees a strategic failure of American power, while Turkey simultaneously fears sanctions, offers mediation and builds its own security architecture. (indianexpress.com)

The Indian reaction is the most down-to-earth—and therefore perhaps the most ruthless. In an editorial published by The Indian Express on August 18, the conflict is described not as an abstract geopolitical duel but as a “new normal” in which the entire world remains hostage to a war that neither Washington nor Tehran can end. The newspaper emphasizes that American bombing has not forced Iran’s leadership to capitulate, while Iran cannot drive the United States out of the region through missile strikes. Yet this mutual deadlock is already changing India’s calculations: the country should expand its strategic oil reserves, reduce excessive dependence on imports and accelerate the development of alternative energy. This is crucial from the Indian perspective: the issue is not who will “win,” but that the cost of the American operation is being passed on to Asian energy consumers. (indianexpress.com)

The same point is expressed even more sharply in another editorial by The Indian Express, where the current choice is framed as a trap “between Iranian blackmail and Trump’s bullying.” The authors do not justify Tehran’s attempts to control shipping through the Strait of Hormuz, but they also regard the American response as a dangerous unilateral experiment. They are particularly concerned by the idea of charging vessels for passage under US protection: for India, this would mean not safeguarding freedom of navigation, but risking the transformation of a vital sea route into an instrument of pressure wielded by both sides. The article also recalls the human cost: Indian citizens were among the sailors affected by attacks on tankers. Thus, in the local view, American foreign policy is no longer a dispute over the “leadership of the free world,” but a question of food inflation, the cost of fertilizer and fuel, and the safety of Indian crews. (indianexpress.com)

The French press views the same crisis through the prism of the erosion of American strategy. The editors of Le Monde believe that the Washington campaign has exposed the limits of military superiority: the initial goal—pressuring the Iranian regime and its nuclear program—has been displaced by the much narrower task of reopening the Strait of Hormuz. The French assessment is particularly scathing about the quality of American diplomacy: a poorly worded agreement gave Tehran the opportunity to interpret the issue of the strait in its own favor, while the US attempt to establish an alternative route through Omani waters does not resolve the underlying political problem. In Paris, the discussion is not simply about Trump’s weakness, but about an institutional flaw in an approach that uses force before defining achievable goals and the legal framework for peace. (lemonde.fr)

In an investigation published on August 14 by Le Monde, this criticism goes even deeper. Jennifer Kavanagh, a military analyst at Defense Priorities, calls the situation the first case in which the United States has, in her assessment, “clearly suffered a strategic defeat,” with long-term consequences. Another expert, Mark Cancian, compares the Iranian campaign to Afghanistan but points to an unusual feature: war aims normally expand over time, whereas here they have narrowed over six months—from changing the regime’s behavior and achieving nuclear disarmament to attempting to restore the previous shipping regime. For a French audience, this matters as more than an American domestic drama. It supports the argument that Europe cannot automatically regard American power as synonymous with order and predictable results. (lemonde.fr)

The Turkish debate differs in that the United States is simultaneously a partner, a source of risk and a convenient reason to strengthen regional autonomy. During a phone call on August 18, Recep Tayyip Erdoğan told Trump directly that it was necessary to “make maximum use of diplomacy” in the US-Iranian crisis, and confirmed Turkey’s readiness to support peace efforts. As reported by Anadolu Ajansı, Ankara links this to a broader plan: lasting peace in the region and the reconstruction of Gaza. In Turkey’s logic, diplomatic mediation is not neutrality for neutrality’s sake: instability in neighboring Iran poses risks to Turkey’s trade, energy supplies, borders and migration.

But the call for dialogue comes against a backdrop of direct pressure. DW Türkçe notes that Trump’s threat to impose “severe economic consequences” on countries maintaining economic ties with Iran is painful for Turkey as well: by the end of 2025, its trade turnover with Iran stood at around $5.5 billion, while Iranian gas remained a significant part of its imports. This gives Turkey’s calls for negotiations a different tone from French criticism or Indian energy concerns. Ankara is defending not only the principle of de-escalation, but also its right not to choose between a neighboring market and American restrictions.

The most unexpected Turkish response is not defensive but constructive. Local analysts see the joint defense agreement signed by Turkey, Saudi Arabia and Pakistan in Mecca on August 7 as an attempt to fill the vacuum created by declining trust in Washington. An analysis by DW Türkçe notes that the Trump administration is increasingly viewed by regional actors as an unreliable ally; Riyadh is therefore strengthening alternative ties, while Ankara gains an opportunity to consolidate its role as an independent center of power. Erdoğan, however, has not abandoned a deal with the United States: in an interview recounted by DW Türkçe, he recalled that he expects Trump to fulfill his promise regarding F-35 deliveries. The Turkish formula therefore looks like this: maintain a channel with America, demand concrete commitments from it, but do not base security solely on an American guarantee.

Ultimately, India, France and Turkey agree on one thing: the problem is no longer limited to Iran. American policy has become a generator of secondary consequences—energy-related, commercial, alliance-related and institutional. India is responding with talk of oil reserves and supply autonomy; France with doubts about the effectiveness of force without a diplomatic strategy; and Turkey by balancing mediation, resistance to sanctions risks and the creation of regional coalitions. The common conclusion of local commentators is blunt: America remains too powerful for its actions to be ignored, but is becoming too unreliable for order to be built on its promises.

❮ ❯

America as an Unpredictable Ally and a Coercive Power: What Japan, Brazil and Russia Are Saying...

In recent days, the image of the United States in Japanese, Brazilian and Russian debates has taken shape not around a single news story, but around a shared impression: Washington is simultaneously demonstrating its power, demanding loyalty from its partners and increasingly changing the rules unilaterally. The most discussed developments have been the sharp reduction in U.S.–South Korean exercises, the U.S. war with Iran and the dispute over the Strait of Hormuz; for Brazil, there has also been direct political and economic pressure from Donald Trump’s administration on the eve of the presidential election. In each of the three countries, these events are viewed through the lens of their own vulnerabilities, but the overall conclusion is similar: American policy is becoming more transactional, while alliances and international norms are becoming less reliable sources of support.

This was particularly evident in Trump’s August 16 decision to sharply reduce U.S. participation in the Ulchi Freedom Shield exercises with South Korea. The president explained the move by citing his “excellent” personal relationship with Kim Jong Un, the high cost of the drills and the fact that they supposedly sent Pyongyang a “hostile signal.” In Japan, the move was seen not as a narrowly Korean episode, but as an alarming signal for the entire deterrence architecture of Northeast Asia. An FNN analysis states directly that the U.S. war with Iran has already begun producing “unexpected consequences” for Asian security: the diversion of American resources and the political decision to scale back the exercises are giving China an opportunity to demonstrate its military strength more actively near Japan, the Philippines and Indonesia. For Tokyo, where any scenario involving a crisis around Taiwan automatically affects Okinawa, the southwestern islands and U.S. bases, the problem is not the five days by which the exercises were shortened, but the precedent: an ally’s defense readiness can be reconsidered in a single post by the American president. (fnn.jp)

Brazil’s reaction to the same Trump decision is even more blunt and almost entirely free of illusions about the diplomatic value of personal relationships. Igor Gielow, a columnist for Folha de S.Paulo, argues in the article “Trump Flirts with Kim and Risks Seeing a Nuclear South Korea” that Washington is effectively pushing Seoul toward considering its own bomb: if the American guarantee depends on the current deal, Trump’s mood or demands to participate in another war, dependence on the United States becomes a risk. This is an important Brazilian reading of American policy: the issue is not only North Korea, but also the fact that allied commitments increasingly look like a commercial contract with a changing price. Brazilian commentators see this as a model of Washington’s behavior that could apply equally to Latin America, Europe and Asia. (www1.folha.uol.com.br)

In Russia, the same development is viewed less through the fate of the U.S.–South Korean alliance and more through the weakening of America’s ability to handle several crises at once. Russian debate is particularly focused on Iran. After the 60-day deadline for reaching an agreement between the United States and Tehran expired on August 17, Kommersant summed up international assessments with the formulation that Trump had “not so many levers for achieving the goals set at the beginning of the war.” The Russian interpretation here is twofold. On the one hand, American pressure is described as a failed attempt to quickly force Iran to capitulate. On the other, the practical cost of the war is emphasized: the United States has to take into account the depletion of its stocks of precision weapons and interceptor missiles, while the Persian Gulf states are seeking new air-defense systems. In this picture, Washington is not merely waging war against Iran: it is using up resources that could support its military presence in other regions, including Asia. (kommersant.ru)

Japan views the Iranian crisis primarily not as a geopolitical contest, but as a threat to its own economic security. According to data cited by JETRO, Japan receives 91% of its imported oil from countries dependent on the Strait of Hormuz, while the total volume of such imports had already fallen by 64% in April. As a result, Japan’s discussion of the U.S. war with Iran is notably down-to-earth: it is not about who will win, but how much oil will cost, whether LNG supplies will continue and how long industry can function amid disruptions. There is a particularly revealing local insight here: for island nation Japan, Trump’s dispute with Tehran over the strait is not a distant Middle Eastern drama, but a potential blow to prices, production and the country’s energy sovereignty. (jetro.go.jp)

Brazilian commentators view Hormuz through a different lens—that of the law of the strong. When Trump began talking about the possibility of declaring the strait American territory, Brazilian media focused less on the technical feasibility of such a statement than on its exposure of the underlying foreign-policy approach. In a CNN Brasil report, experts stress that actual control over the strait is far more complicated than presidential declarations: shipping remains under threat, the naval blockade of Iran has not been lifted, and Trump is caught between the risk of losing influence if he backs down and domestic pressure to reduce the cost of living ahead of important elections. The Brazilian perspective is notable because it links foreign expansion not to an abstract “American strategy,” but to U.S. domestic politics: loud threats and demonstrations of control over sea routes are understood as an extension of the electoral struggle in Washington. (cnnbrasil.com.br)

That is why Brazil’s reaction to the United States is currently the most politically charged. In Brasília, pressure from Washington is seen not as an ordinary trade dispute, but as an attempt to influence the country’s domestic choice. In a Folha de S.Paulo column, Trump’s policy in the Western Hemisphere is described as a return to the worst practices of American intervention: tariffs against Brazil, diplomatic démarches and military rhetoric combine into multilayered pressure on Lula’s government. The State Department’s formula that “American dominance in the Western Hemisphere will never again be questioned” has become almost a symbol of the new course in Brazilian commentary. Celso Amorim, former head of the presidential palace’s special foreign-policy service, called it an encroachment on Brazil’s sovereignty; the U.S. administration, for its part, said it would respect the results of Brazil’s election if they were “free and fair.” (www1.folha.uol.com.br)

The paradox is that Lula and Trump nevertheless held a roughly 80-minute phone call on August 21, discussing tariffs, the fight against organized crime, Ukraine and the Middle East. But in the Brazilian interpretation, this contact does not yet resolve the main problem: the dialogue is taking place after a series of sanctions-related, trade and diplomatic signals, rather than instead of them. As El País notes, the need for such a conversation arose amid a new tariff blow from Washington and a sharp deterioration in relations. For Brazil, this means that Trump’s America can offer negotiations while retaining instruments of coercion. (elpais.com)

The most unusual common thread audible in Tokyo, Brasília and Moscow is that this is no longer simply about a “tough America.” Japan fears that the United States may trade the predictability of its alliance system for personal diplomacy with Kim Jong Un and short-term savings. Brazil sees Washington as a power returning to the language of spheres of influence and pressure on its neighbors. Russia interprets the Iranian impasse as evidence of the limits of American power, while closely watching how far the United States is prepared to go in the Strait of Hormuz. Their political sympathies and interests differ, but the central point is shared: Trump’s actions are perceived as a policy in which international commitments, military displays and trade measures are increasingly becoming parts of the same deal. For other countries, that means they must prepare not only for American power, but also for American unpredictability.

❮ ❯

Pushback Against U.S. Economic and Political Pressure

Today’s edition looks at reactions from various countries to pressure from Washington. Canada is seeking ways to reduce its economic dependence after the introduction of U.S. tariffs, Iran is condemning the resumption of U.S. economic pressure, and Mexico is discussing the domestic implications of Washington’s accusations against a governor involving drug trafficking. Venezuelan reports focus on Donald Trump’s declining popularity and the political consequences of U.S. policy and leadership. This edition was prepared based on materials from RFI (China) and YouTube (Venezuela).

U.S. Tariff Dispute Accelerates Canada’s Search for New Markets

The threat of new U.S. tariffs has once again exposed the main weakness of the Canadian economy—its long-standing dependence on the U.S. market. As noted by the Chinese edition of RFI, Washington plans to invoke Section 338 of the Tariff Act of 1930 and impose 50% tariffs on Canadian goods worth approximately $20 billion in total.

Negotiations between the countries have effectively reached an impasse, with both sides blaming each other. U.S. Trade Representative Jamieson Greer claims that Ottawa put forward additional demands at the last minute. Canadian Prime Minister Mark Carney takes the opposite view: according to him, the U.S. administration changed the initial terms and offered Ottawa an economically unfair deal.

Carney has promised to respond to the pressure on a “dollar-for-dollar” basis. “Canada has resources the world needs, and we will not allow any one country to determine our future,” he said. This formula reflects not only Canada’s position in the specific tariff dispute but also a broader shift in Canadian policy: Ottawa is increasingly looking for ways to reduce its vulnerability to decisions made by its main trading partner.

The scale of this dependence is particularly significant. Around 70% of Canada’s exports traditionally go to the United States, while the European Union accounts for approximately 4%. Consequently, even tariffs limited to particular groups of goods are seen by Canada not as an ordinary commercial dispute, but as a threat to the entire model of its foreign trade.

Richard Ouellet, a professor of international economic law at Université Laval, called the situation “unprecedented.” In his assessment, Canada is experiencing “fear” because the Canada–United States–Mexico Agreement had previously served as a kind of “shield” for the country. Now, the scholar argues, the United States itself is “opening a breach” in that protection, calling into question the reliability of agreements with its closest ally.

In response, Ottawa is accelerating the diversification of its trade and investment ties. Carney is stepping up contacts with India, China, and Saudi Arabia. According to the report, the Donald Trump administration was particularly angered by a preliminary agreement with the PRC concerning the admission of Chinese electric vehicles to the Canadian market. For Canada, this could become one element of a new strategy in which China is viewed not only as a competitor and a difficult political partner, but also as an important market, source of investment, and supplier of industrial products.

At the same time, the country is seeking more direct access to Asian markets. Key areas include expanding port capacity in Montreal and Vancouver, developing new deposits, and constructing a pipeline that would connect Alberta’s oil sands with the Pacific coast. Such infrastructure would make it possible to redirect part of Canada’s energy exports to Asia, reducing producers’ dependence on American buyers and transportation routes.

The first signs of this reorientation are already visible. In 2025, Canadian exports to countries outside the United States increased by 11.1% and approached one-third of total overseas shipments. According to Canada’s foreign-affairs department, this was the highest figure in 40 years.

In the Chinese interpretation, the dispute goes far beyond a bilateral conflict. U.S. tariffs and political pressure are presented as an example of how Washington’s protectionist and unilateral measures affect even its closest allies. From this perspective, Canada’s search for alternative markets confirms the need to diversify international ties, strengthen the domestic economy, and prevent national development from becoming dependent on the decisions of a single foreign power.

For Beijing, a possible weakening of Canada’s economic ties with the United States creates new opportunities—from trade in raw materials and energy cooperation to investment, electric-vehicle supplies, and expanded access to the Canadian market. For Ottawa itself, however, closer ties with Asian partners are becoming less an ideological choice than a pragmatic response to the growing unpredictability of U.S. trade policy.

Venezuela Watches Trump’s Waning Influence in the United States

Donald Trump’s declining popularity and the defeats of candidates he backed in Republican primaries are viewed in Venezuela’s information space as signs of deeper problems within the U.S. political system. The focus is not so much on the outcome of individual intraparty campaigns as on the president’s ability to retain influence within the Republican Party ahead of the midterm elections for Congress.

As noted in a CNN report, a number of candidates endorsed by Trump lost Republican primaries. Expert Octavio Pescador linked the results to the decline in the president’s approval rating and questioned the durability of his control over his own party.

For Venezuela, these developments are of more than merely observational interest. Washington remains one of the main external factors shaping sanctions policy, restrictions in the oil sector, and diplomatic pressure on Caracas. Therefore, a possible weakening of the U.S. president is viewed as a factor capable of influencing the future direction of U.S. policy toward Latin American countries.

If Trump loses support among Republicans, his administration may find it more difficult to pursue a consistent policy through Congress. This concerns not only the domestic agenda, but also decisions on sanctions, migration, oil restrictions, and relations with Venezuela. Growing intraparty resistance in the United States could potentially limit the White House’s room for maneuver and make foreign-policy decisions less predictable.

In the Venezuelan context, the defeats of Trump’s allies are interpreted as an indicator of a crisis of his leadership, rather than as a series of isolated electoral episodes. For a country that has been under U.S. sanctions and pressure for an extended period, Washington’s political vulnerability may be perceived as a possible opening for negotiations, the easing of restrictive measures, or a reduction in the scale of external interference.

Although the report contains no direct comments from Venezuelan politicians or local experts, the very interest in the topic shows how closely internal conflicts in the United States are linked in Caracas to the prospects for bilateral relations. Viewed this way, U.S. primaries become not merely domestic political news, but a factor that could affect sanctions, diplomacy, and the future dialogue between Washington and Caracas.

❮ ❯

America as a Source of Risk: Views in India, Germany and France on War with Iran, Tariffs and...

As of August 22, 2026, the image of the United States in Indian, German and French public debate is shaped not by a single sensation, but by a sense of an accumulating systemic failure. At the center of attention are the US-Israeli war against Iran, which has reached a protracted deadlock over the Strait of Hormuz; the transformation of American trade into an instrument of political coercion; and the broader question of whether national strategies can still be built on Washington’s predictability. The tone differs in the three countries, but the shared conclusion is becoming increasingly clear: American power remains enormous, yet its use has become impulsive, costly for partners and not always capable of delivering the stated result.

The sharpest common issue is Iran. In India, the conflict is viewed primarily through the lens of energy security and economic vulnerability. In an editorial in The Indian Express, the expiration of the 60-day US-Iran memorandum is described as the moment when the world became “hostage to a conflict that neither side is capable of ending.” For New Delhi, this is not abstract geopolitics: disruption to shipping through the Strait of Hormuz threatens oil supplies, drives up fuel costs and puts pressure on the trade balance. The newspaper urges India not to wait for a diplomatic miracle, but to accelerate the creation of strategic oil reserves and investment in alternative energy. (indianexpress.com)

Indian commentators are also unusually harsh in assessing President Donald Trump’s strategic position itself. In a column by Khinwraj Jangid for The Indian Express, he argues that Tehran, despite America’s superiority in military power, has gained an advantage in political maneuvering: Washington has failed to change the regime, secure an acceptable deal or safely withdraw from the war. The author also points to another uncomfortable fact for the region: the Iranian authorities use the Palestinian issue as a language of anti-American mobilization, but in their own terms for a settlement they prioritize not a Palestinian state, but sanctions relief, compensation and the withdrawal of US forces. (indianexpress.com)

In Germany, the same war is perceived less as a distant crisis and more as proof that American policy is creating European risks without giving Europe a clear role in managing them. An analysis by Tagesschau highlights Trump’s formula of “unprecedented economic warfare” against Iran and asks the key question: what does it actually mean if the president does not explain the specific sanctions measures? The German assessment is particularly critical of the chain of cause and effect: before the war launched by the United States and Israel, Hormuz was open, whereas now it is precisely the resulting blockade of the strait that is driving up oil and gasoline prices, including in America itself. Political scientist Sascha Lohmann describes Washington’s policy as devoid of strategy; for German audiences, this matters more than yet another sharp statement by Trump, because it concerns an ally’s ability to control the consequences of its own decisions. (tagesschau.de)

The French press goes further still, describing the Iranian campaign as a crisis not only of strategy but also of democratic accountability in the United States. In an investigation, Le Monde calls the war “sealed off”: in the newspaper’s assessment, the White House keeps changing the language used to describe events, obscures information about casualties and fails to articulate lasting objectives. Mark Cancian, an expert at CSIS, notes that war aims usually tend to expand, but in Iran’s case they instead narrowed rapidly—from supporting protests and neutralizing missile and nuclear threats to the nearly unattainable demand that the previous regime of shipping through Hormuz be restored immediately. Le Monde also emphasizes the risk that US stocks of precision-guided munitions could be depleted—in other words, the danger that a war in the Middle East could limit America’s capabilities in other theaters. (lemonde.fr)

This is where an important difference between the countries emerges. India does not turn America’s failures into a moral verdict on the West: it is concerned with the practical question of how to preserve defense and technology partnerships with the United States, prevent an energy shock and avoid becoming subject to someone else’s sanctions regime. Germany and France, by contrast, interpret the Iranian deadlock as an argument for greater European autonomy. French correspondent Piotr Smolar, writing in Le Monde, links the conflict to the spread of “hedging”—a policy of protection against excessive dependence, in which US partners do not sever ties with Washington but simultaneously seek alternative channels of security, trade and diplomacy. For Paris, this is almost the natural language of “strategic autonomy”; for Berlin, it remains a painful, but increasingly less theoretical, conversation. (lemonde.fr)

The second major issue is tariffs as a form of foreign policy. This is where India feels the American turn most directly. Economist Manoj Pant, in his column for The Indian Express, asks whether negotiations on a trade agreement with the United States are becoming a meaningless ritual: if the White House unilaterally threatens 100% tariffs on Indian pharmaceutical shipments starting in 2028 and 200% tariffs the following year, what kind of predictable deal can there be? The Indian view is notably pragmatic: the author does not propose breaking relations with the United States, since the American market, the QUAD and the balance of power in the Indo-Pacific remain critically important. But he urges India not to take the US market for granted and to accelerate trade diversification. (indianexpress.com)

Another Indian expert, Ajay Srivastava, offers an even broader interpretation in an analysis for The Indian Express: the problem lies not in one tariff or one presidential order, but in the emergence of a “tariff state.” In his view, Congress is beginning to give this policy a more durable legislative form, while tariffs themselves are increasingly being used not to resolve trade disputes but to achieve foreign- and domestic-policy objectives. For India, which supplies a significant share of affordable generic medicines to American patients, this looks like a policy capable of harming not only exporters but also consumers in the United States itself. (indianexpress.com)

French and German commentary does not experience the Indian pharmaceutical risk to the same degree, but it recognizes a familiar pattern: the United States is increasingly and freely combining security, sanctions, market access and political loyalty. As a result, in the European view, the dispute over Hormuz and the dispute over tariffs are not two separate stories, but one. In both cases, partners are confronting a Washington that can rapidly mobilize resources but is increasingly transactional in its actions: support comes at a price, while disagreement brings the threat of economic or political punishment.

The most unexpected common conclusion among local observers is that this is not about the imminent “end of America.” Neither India, Germany nor France is seriously writing the United States off. India still needs American technology and the containment of China; Germany needs America’s NATO capabilities; and France needs transatlantic cooperation, even when it speaks most loudly about autonomy. But trust is changing form. Instead of expecting Washington to provide order, more and more people are talking about the need to withstand American unpredictability: stockpiling energy, diversifying markets, expanding their own defense capabilities and maintaining channels of negotiation with those whom the United States is trying to isolate.

This is the main international effect of America’s current crises. In India, they have produced a language of calculation and economic self-protection. In Germany, they have generated anxiety about a strategy that creates instability faster than it offers a way out. In France, they have fostered an almost doctrinal conviction that the era of automatic reliance on the United States is over. American power has not disappeared; but in the eyes of these three countries, it increasingly looks not like a guarantee of order, but like a factor whose consequences they must protect themselves against.

❮ ❯

America as an Unpredictable Ally: What Seoul, Berlin and Moscow Think...

In recent days, discussions about America in South Korea, Germany and Russia have focused less on any single White House initiative than on a new style of American power: Washington is simultaneously demanding solidarity, changing the terms of cooperation and using military guarantees as a bargaining tool. The immediate triggers were Donald Trump’s “unprecedented economic” pressure on Iran, announced on August 20, and the scaling back of U.S.–South Korean exercises that began on August 17. In local debates, these developments are linked by a single idea: the United States is increasingly transferring the logic of the deal—“you are either with us or against us”—from trade into the sphere of security. (amp.rbc.ru)

The sharpest common issue is the American campaign against Iran. In Germany, it is seen primarily as a symptom of Washington’s strategic confusion rather than as a carefully conceived path toward an agreement. In an article for Tagesschau, political scientist Sascha Loman describes Trump’s approach as lacking a strategy: threats, the withdrawal of threats and statements about diplomatic progress follow one another, while no military or negotiating breakthrough is in sight. German commentators are particularly sensitive to this not because of abstract pacifism: Europe has already felt how the conflict around Iran turns the security of shipping routes and energy prices into an immediate domestic problem. (tagesschau.de)

South Korea’s reaction to the same campaign is considerably more pragmatic and anxious. Seoul views the Iranian crisis through two vulnerabilities: dependence on maritime trade and the risk that alliance commitments will be expanded without clear limits. The newspaper Kyunghyang Shinmun notes that the 60-day negotiating period between the United States and Iran expired without results, while experts doubt that sanctions pressure will change Tehran’s position. For Korean readers, this is not simply a Middle Eastern story: economic warfare around the Strait of Hormuz threatens energy supplies, while the American demand that partners support the campaign raises the question of what price Seoul should pay to preserve its special relationship with the United States. (khan.co.kr)

Russia’s discussion of Iran approaches the issue differently—not as an ally’s dilemma, but as evidence of the limits of American coercion. RBC reported in detail on Trump’s formula concerning the consequences for any country that helps Iran. But Russian analysis places greater emphasis on the way secondary sanctions turn America’s conflict with Tehran into a problem for third countries. In an earlier column in Kommersant that remains influential in this discourse, Elena Chernenko argued that the United States had failed to achieve its declared military objectives in Iran. Russia therefore reads today’s threat of an “economic D-Day” as an attempt to replace failure on the battlefield with global economic intimidation. (amp.rbc.ru)

The clearest illustration of this new logic is Trump’s decision to significantly scale back joint exercises with South Korea. Formally, he explained the move by citing his good relationship with Kim Jong Un, the high cost of the maneuvers and his displeasure that Seoul had refused to join the American line on Iran. For South Korea, this was a painful reminder: deterrence against North Korea, regarded for decades as a stable foundation of the alliance, can be altered by a decision of the U.S. president literally on the eve of the exercises. (apnews.com)

Two interpretations are therefore competing in Seoul. The first sees the reduction in exercises as an invitation to Pyongyang to pursue new diplomacy. A Seoul Shinmun article called the move a signal almost on the level of a personal message to Kim Jong Un; Victor Cha of CSIS considers it a demonstration of Trump’s seriousness about resuming contact. The second, more cautious interpretation holds that North Korea is merely a convenient pretext: the White House is simultaneously punishing Seoul for refusing to support U.S. policy on Iran and pushing it toward larger investment and military concessions. This duality is captured by Money Today, citing an assessment by Adam Farrar, a former U.S. National Security Council official. (seoul.co.kr)

The distinctive feature of the Korean perspective is that no one there can simply choose between “dialogue” and “deterrence.” North Korea’s nuclear and missile programs, as well as Pyongyang’s growing military ties with Moscow, make the reduction of exercises not a symbolic gesture but a question of military readiness. The South Korean Parliament Library’s National Strategic Portal explicitly notes that American experts both allow for a diplomatic rationale behind the decision and warn of possible damage to joint defense readiness. Seoul’s government is trying to speak with extreme caution: preserving the possibility of dialogue while emphasizing coordination with the United States to maintain common defense. (nsp.nanet.go.kr)

In Germany, the Korean episode was perceived as a distant but highly understandable warning to Europe. In a Die Zeit podcast, the question is posed directly: are the United States turning away from their allies? A recent essay, “Should Germany Still Rely on the United States?”, reaches an even harsher conclusion: Germany depends on America not only militarily, but also for technology, cloud infrastructure, payment systems and strategic capabilities ranging from missile defense to satellite intelligence. German anxiety, therefore, is not reducible to an aversion to Trump. It is fear that Europe still lacks a full substitute for American guarantees even as those guarantees become increasingly conditional. (zeit.de)

Russia’s interpretation of the reduction in exercises is almost a mirror image of South Korea’s. In an RBC analysis, the decision is presented as Trump’s return to personal diplomacy with Kim Jong Un and to his long-standing view of military exercises as costly and provocative rituals. But the more important point is this: Russian observers see it as confirmation that American alliances increasingly resemble flexible deals rather than automatic commitments. For Moscow, this is a useful argument in the debate over the United States’ “unreliability”; for Seoul, a reason to demand predictability from Washington; and for Berlin, another argument in favor of European strategic autonomy. (amp.rbc.ru)

The third common thread is fatigue with American sanctions diplomacy. In Russia, discussion of new restrictions against Moscow centers on how real they are and who their true targets will be. Kommersant notes that the new American package could give the president the authority to impose tariffs on major buyers of Russian energy, including China, India and certain European countries. From the Russian perspective, this is not only pressure on the Kremlin but also an expansion of America’s power to punish external economic partners. This is why Russia’s reactions to sanctions against Iran and to possible new measures against Russia converge: according to this interpretation, Washington is trying to address several conflicts at once through extraterritorial levers. (kommersant.ru)

The most unexpected conclusion from these three national debates is that the United States today inspires not merely the familiar responses of approval or anti-Americanism. In South Korea, America remains an indispensable protector, but its decisions are increasingly perceived as a source of uncertainty. In Germany, it remains the foundation of security, but at the same time the reason for an accelerated search for European autonomy. In Russia, America appears as a power whose capabilities are considerable, but whose reliance on pressure and personal deals reveals strategic overextension. Iran, Korea and sanctions may seem like separate stories, yet local reactions are united by one troubling thought: the international system is increasingly dependent not on stable rules and institutions, but on what deal the White House wants to make today.

❮ ❯

America of Power and America of Deals: Why India, China and Turkey Increasingly Speak of...

In recent days, the main American issue prompting a strong reaction in India, China and Turkey has been not US domestic politics, but the war over Iran and the Strait of Hormuz. However, local discussions are quickly moving beyond the Middle East. In Delhi, Beijing and Ankara, a broader question is being debated: can America simultaneously be a military superpower, a guarantor of trade routes and a predictable partner—or is its policy increasingly becoming a combination of sanctions, ultimatums and temporary agreements that nobody regards as final?

The latest surge in concern was prompted by Donald Trump’s statement on August 19 that there are no negotiations with Iran and that none are on the immediate agenda. Turkey’s Dünya Gazetesi interpreted this primarily as a signal that the diplomatic window was closing again precisely when the temporary agreement on the Strait of Hormuz had expired. For the Turkish public, this is not abstract geopolitics: instability in the Persian Gulf immediately means oil-price spikes, a threat to maritime trade and increased regional risks along Turkey’s southern borders. (dunya.com)

A distinctive feature of the Turkish perspective is its skepticism toward the very American model of “negotiations under fire.” Merve Seren Yıldırım Beyazıt, an associate professor at Ankara University, describes the war in an Anadolu Ajansı analysis as a conflict with no clear end in sight, in which military strikes and diplomacy proceed in parallel, creating a “gray zone” rather than a path to peace. In this reading, the problem is not limited to Iran’s nuclear program: the US and Israel have acquired a tool of pressure, but have not created a political formula that Tehran, the Arab monarchies and regional mediators could regard as sustainable. (aa.com.tr)

The Indian reaction is noticeably less ideological, but far more alarming in economic terms. In New Delhi, the debate is focused less on who is right in the conflict than on why the American campaign for “freedom of navigation” has placed Asia’s energy supplies at risk. An Indian Express analysis emphasizes that around 40% of India’s crude-oil imports, 60% of its LNG imports and 90% of its liquefied petroleum gas supplies from West Asia pass through the Strait of Hormuz. For India, the strait is not a symbol of global maritime freedom, but an artery on which inflation, industry and the incomes of millions of families depend. (indianexpress.com)

This explains India’s characteristic ambivalence. Delhi is not abandoning strategic cooperation with Washington, but it increasingly sees the US as a power whose decisions in third countries can cause India direct harm. Indian Express diplomatic editor Shubhajit Roy wrote that a new major war would mean not only an energy shock for India, but also a threat to its sailors and its large Indian community in the Gulf states; in his words, New Delhi is seeking the parties’ return to dialogue because a global economic downturn would hit the Global South particularly hard. (indianexpress.com) In this logic, American power is valued only as long as it reduces risks; when it becomes a source of disruptions in the Strait of Hormuz, sanctions and rising prices, India begins seeking insurance through supplier diversification and its own “strategic autonomy.”

Chinese commentators view the same crisis through the lens of America’s reputation. In a Xinhua article published by The Paper, Trump’s threats against Oman are interpreted as a sign of Washington’s frustration over the lack of quick results. It cites Dubai-based researcher Ahmed Ali, who argues that “the diplomacy of threats” does not address the roots of Iran’s problem and merely erodes trust in the US in the Middle East and around the world. (thepaper.cn) For Chinese audiences, this argument is particularly convenient: it links the Middle Eastern conflict to Beijing’s longstanding criticism of unilateral American pressure.

But China’s discussion is not limited to a propaganda formula about “hegemony.” In a Global Times commentary, a Chinese expert explained the collapse of the previous US-Iran memorandum not only in terms of military actions, but also by pointing to its inherent ambiguity: the two sides understand differently who should determine the rules of navigation in the Strait of Hormuz. This is an important local observation. Beijing sees the crisis not simply as a clash between the US and Iran, but as a dispute over who has the right to establish order in an international strait—the American military coalition, the littoral states or a new regional arrangement involving Oman. (globaltimes.cn)

This is where three different national perspectives converge. Turkey fears that Washington is turning a neighboring region into a long-term war zone. India fears that the US-Iran confrontation is sending the bill to Asian energy importers and threatening its maritime communications. China uses the situation as evidence that unilateral coercion does not create a sustainable order. The three countries do not propose identical solutions, but they are all increasingly demanding not an American victory, but workable rules that will outlast the next statement from the White House.

A second common theme is growing distrust of American “deal-making” diplomacy. In India, this is fueled by more than Iran. In a recent column for The Federal, journalist Seema Guha recalls that relations which until recently seemed protected by Narendra Modi’s personal rapport with Trump have come under pressure from punitive tariffs, immigration measures, criticism of Russian-oil purchases and renewed US interest in Pakistan. Her main conclusion is especially telling: India needs not simply to “outlast Trump,” but to adapt to an America that is changing more deeply and, likely, for the long term. (thefederal.com)

In China, similar distrust is fueled not by tariffs against India, but by American restrictions on technology, telecommunications and supply chains. A Chinese official commentary on countermeasures against US entities links them to restrictions on Chinese robotics equipment and power inverters, as well as the expansion of sanctions lists. The essence of Beijing’s position is this: the US publicly speaks of “constructive strategic stability,” but in practice continues to expand the concept of national security into an instrument of economic pressure. (thepaper.cn)

For Turkey, this issue sounds somewhat different. Ankara does not experience the US-China technology rivalry as directly as Beijing, nor does it have India’s level of dependence on Middle Eastern energy flows. However, Turkish debate increasingly views the US as a power against whose decisions it is necessary to hedge through regional formats, mediation and a more independent defense policy. In an Anadolu Ajansı analysis, lecturer Yusuf Bahadır Keskin draws attention to pressure from Saudi Arabia, the UAE and Qatar on Washington, which secured a delay in new strikes against Iran. For Turkish thinking, this is almost a demonstration of the new reality: even the US must take into account not only military-coalition allies, but also regional actors capable of influencing the war through oil, logistics and diplomacy. (aa.com.tr)

The most unexpected common conclusion from the Indian, Chinese and Turkish debates is that American power is not considered to be disappearing. On the contrary, it is precisely its scale—sanctions, naval forces, strikes, technological barriers and influence over markets—that makes Washington the central focus of attention. But respect for power is increasingly less likely to turn into trust in policy. America remains an indispensable power, yet in Delhi, Beijing and Ankara, policymakers increasingly assume that cooperation with it must be selective; that alternative routes, suppliers and diplomatic channels are necessary; and that national strategy should never be built on the assumption that an American signature automatically amounts to a long-term guarantee.

❮ ❯

America as a Source of Risk: What Japan, India and Ukraine Saw in Washington’s New Policy

As of August 20, 2026, discussions about the United States in Japan, India and Ukraine converge on one troubling conclusion: Washington still possesses decisive military and financial power, but is increasingly using it unpredictably, linking its partners’ security to their immediate political usefulness. The reason is not only the protracted US conflict with Iran, where another 60-day ceasefire ended on August 17 without a clear political settlement. An equally important signal for Asia was Donald Trump’s order to sharply scale back US–South Korean military exercises. For the three countries, these are different stories, but the underlying question is the same: can national strategies be built on America’s promises if its priorities change faster than its allies and partners can adapt?

The Japanese debate shows particularly clearly that Iran is no longer a distant Middle Eastern conflict for Tokyo. At a Genron NPO forum, Japanese Middle East specialists Kenta Aoki, Koichiro Tanaka and Hiroyuki Suzuki reached a common conclusion: the temporary US–Iran agreement in June did not eliminate the fundamental contradictions, but merely postponed them. Tanaka put it bluntly: Trump signed a document “where there was nothing to negotiate in the first place.” For Japanese experts, the most important issue is not who won, but the very model of American diplomacy: announce a deal without agreeing on its mechanisms, then compensate for its failure with a new threat of force. (genron-npo.net)

This gives rise to an unusual idea in the Japanese mainstream: the alliance with the United States is necessary, but allied loyalty alone is no longer enough. Participants in the Tokyo discussion spoke of the need for a more independent Japanese diplomacy, because the era when the United States single-handedly set the order in the Middle East is clearly coming to an end. This is not a call to distance Japan from Washington, but a recognition that Japanese interests—energy security, shipping through the Strait of Hormuz and market stability—should not depend solely on whether the White House manages to preserve yet another pause in the war. (genron-npo.net)

But it was the reduction of US–South Korean exercises that made this conclusion almost tangible for Tokyo. On August 18, Japan’s Defense Minister Shinjiro Koizumi responded to Trump’s decision with a statement that was outwardly calm but politically revealing: Japan would promote cooperation among the United States, Japan and South Korea to prevent any damage to deterrence against North Korea. As Yomiuri reported via Livedoor News, the statement specifically concerned the need for close coordination with partners following the American decision. (news.livedoor.com)

For the Japanese, the issue is not only the military function of the exercises. Washington effectively demonstrated that it was prepared to revise an element of North Korea’s deterrence unilaterally and tie it to dissatisfaction with Seoul’s conduct in the conflict with Iran. From the Japanese perspective, this represents a dangerous shift from an alliance system to a system of deals: today, an ally is rewarded or punished for its contribution in the Middle East, and tomorrow, the same conditionality could affect commitments in East Asia. Japan’s reaction, therefore, is not panic over a single scaled-back exercise, but concern that the American security guarantee is becoming a bargaining chip.

In India, the war with Iran is perceived even more materially—through oil, shipping, the Indian diaspora in the Gulf states and the rupee’s vulnerability. But the local debate quickly moved beyond fuel prices. In a column for The Indian Express, former member of India’s National Security Advisory Board Amitabh Mattoo writes that the crisis shattered New Delhi’s comfortable illusion: closeness to Washington does not automatically translate into political influence. India has invested in relations with the United States for decades, but in negotiations to end the war, the Americans opted for Pakistan as a mediator. (indianexpress.com)

This is an especially painful issue for India’s strategic community. Mattoo recalls that the Persian Gulf crisis endangered Indian sailors, trade and the millions of Indian citizens living and working in the region. Yet, in his assessment, these interests did not make New Delhi an indispensable participant in American diplomacy. His formula—“proximity is not leverage, access is not influence”—became an exact description of India’s current disappointment. (indianexpress.com)

Indian parliamentarian Shashi Tharoor goes even further. In his commentary, he argues that the United States went to war for terms that could largely have been obtained through negotiations, and ultimately secured a worse agreement than earlier arrangements limiting Iran’s nuclear program. For India, the cost of America’s failure is measured not in abstract geopolitics, but in higher oil expenses, inflation, pressure on the currency and risks to maritime trade. (indianexpress.com)

Yet India’s reaction is not reducible to anti-Americanism. It contains a more pragmatic conclusion: strategic autonomy should not be a slogan about maintaining equal distance from all centers of power, but the ability to turn one’s own regional ties into real influence. In other words, New Delhi criticizes Washington not because it is too powerful, but because American power has ceased to be a predictable public good for its partners.

The Ukrainian view is the harshest, because for Kyiv the American war with Iran is both an opportunity and a threat. The opportunity is that pressure on Tehran weakens one of Russia’s key suppliers of military technology. President Volodymyr Zelenskyy expressed this position without diplomatic euphemisms: “the Iranians and North Koreans have already attacked us,” since Iran supplied Russia with Shahed drones, technology and other weapons. Zelenskyy made the statement in an interview recounted by Interfax-Ukraine. (interfax.com.ua)

But the risk for Ukraine is that a prolonged US–Iran war will consume precisely the resources Kyiv needs most: interceptor missiles, air-defense systems, precision munitions and the attention of the US administration. Ukrainian commentator Vsevolod Yurchenko noted in an analysis for TrueUA that after the fighting resumed, Ukraine did not disappear from the global agenda, as had been feared during the first days of the conflict. But the very need to emphasize this reveals the depth of the concern: Kyiv must constantly demonstrate that Russia’s war against Ukraine cannot become secondary against the backdrop of another crisis created by the United States on a different theater. (trueua.info)

The Ukrainian perspective also highlights a particular irony: Iran receives Russian components, ammunition and battlefield experience for its war against America, while the United States risks spending resources in the Middle East that could strengthen Ukraine’s defense against Russia. Reports of continued Russian shipments of military materiel to Iran via the Caspian Sea only reinforce the perception of interconnected conflicts. (criticalthreats.org)

Thus, the three local reactions form a single picture. Japan sees the erosion of predictability in allied commitments in Asia. India discovers that partnership with America does not guarantee a seat at the table where decisions affecting its vital interests are made. Ukraine fears that America’s war against its enemy’s supplier could simultaneously weaken the resource base of its own defense. All three countries want not merely American involvement, but American consistency. And it is precisely that—not US power as such—that is becoming increasingly difficult to see from Tokyo, New Delhi and Kyiv.

❮ ❯

America as a Source of Risk and Leverage: Views from Turkey, Russia and South Korea

By mid-August 2026, the image of the United States in Turkish, Russian and South Korean discussions is shaped not by a single news story but by a common perception: Washington is simultaneously trying to act as a military superpower, an arbiter of conflicts and the center of global economic policy—but each of these roles is now seen as a source of instability. The main shared topic is the confrontation between the United States and Iran and the fate of the Strait of Hormuz. In Seoul, however, it is viewed primarily through the risks to trade, energy supplies and export industries; in Ankara, through the security of the Middle East and the right of regional countries to shape the regional order themselves; and in Moscow, as evidence of the limits of American pressure and as a backdrop to a broader debate over whether America is capable of imposing terms simultaneously on Iran, Russia and its own allies. (hani.co.kr)

Hormuz has become the point where these three perspectives diverge most clearly. In an analysis for Anadolu Ajansı, Turkish analyst Yusuf Bahadır Keskin describes the crisis not as an ordinary bilateral confrontation between the United States and Iran, but as the collapse of the previous regional architecture: Iran is using the strait as leverage to consolidate a new status quo, the United States is continuing its strategy of strikes and blockade, and the Gulf states are trying to turn their own vulnerability into diplomatic pressure on both sides. This Turkish tone is important: the problem is seen not as Washington being insufficiently determined, but as the fact that coercive pressure itself is making compromise nearly impossible. Another Turkish researcher, Bilgehan Alagöz, in an AA article, focuses on the logistical dimension: in Iran, US actions are perceived as a threat not only to nuclear and military infrastructure but also to transport corridors, including links with China. This is particularly sensitive for a Turkish audience: Ankara traditionally views the Middle East through the prism of energy, trade and transit routes, not solely through the balance of aircraft carriers and missiles. (aa.com.tr)

In Russian public analysis, the same situation serves as an argument against the American negotiating strategy. Expert Sergei Balmasov, commenting on Donald Trump’s statements about a possible new round of contacts with Tehran, told Gazeta.Ru that Trump “bluffs constantly,” while Iran understands this and is pressuring the United States through restrictions in the Strait of Hormuz. International affairs specialist Marat Zembatov, in a column for Izvestia, interprets the conflict as a struggle not so much over shipping as over the right to set the rules governing access to a critical energy artery. The Russian perspective here is pragmatic: it is not solidarity with Iran as such, but the argument that US economic and military power does not automatically translate into political control. This also explains the continuing interest in oil-price volatility: Russian analysts see it not only as a threat to the global economy, but also as a reminder that American Middle East policy can affect exporters’ revenues, exchange rates and sanctions calculations far beyond the region. (iz.ru)

The South Korean reaction is noticeably less ideological, but no less critical. Seoul views the US-Iranian deadlock as a threat to predictability—the very condition on which the country’s export economy depends. In an article on the end of the 60-day truce, Hankyoreh emphasizes that Washington is intensifying its combination of sanctions and economic isolation, while Tehran retains control over the situation in the strait. For Korea, this means the risk of another wave of expensive energy, higher insurance costs and disruptions to maritime trade. Notably, South Korean discussion is rarely reduced to the question of “who is right” in the US-Iran dispute: what matters more is how quickly political confrontation translates into the cost of raw materials, freight and finished products.

The same concern about dependence on American decisions is especially evident in South Korean debates over trade. The Republic of Korea’s government is negotiating with the United States simultaneously on tariffs, non-tariff barriers and the first project under a $200 billion investment package for the US economy. Industry Minister Kim Jung-kwan, who arrived in Washington on August 16, acknowledged that the talks had produced more contentious details than expected, although the goal remains to announce the first project by the end of August. This was reported by the Maeil Business Newspaper. Meanwhile, Hankyoreh writes of concerns that Seoul has too many unresolved trade issues and that the institutional organization of the negotiations remains insufficiently robust. Behind the bureaucratic wording lies a fairly harsh perception: an alliance with the United States does not eliminate the need to literally pay for access to the American market through investment, production localization and constant concessions in tariff disputes. (stock12.mk.co.kr)

The Turkish economic press sees a similar, though less direct, dependence through the Federal Reserve and the dollar-based financial system. In an article on the markets, Habertürk columnist Abdurrahman Yıldırım argues that markets now influence Trump’s policies no less than policy influences the markets. His point is telling: American decisions on interest rates, debt, currencies and trade are no longer perceived as the United States’ internal affairs. For Turkey, where sensitivity to the dollar exchange rate, import costs and capital flows is particularly high, America appears not simply as a NATO partner but as an external factor capable of shifting prices, risk premiums and inflation expectations with a single change in tone from Washington. (haberturk.com)

The Russian debate adds another layer: disappointment in the expectation that US-Russian dialogue would quickly lead to lasting détente. Fyodor Lukyanov, director of research at the Valdai Discussion Club, describes in a commentary for the Russian International Affairs Council the year since the Russian-American meeting in Alaska as a transition from tentative signs of an agreement to a new escalation. In his interpretation, the United States initially tried to achieve a political result through negotiations, but, having failed to obtain a rapid effect, once again reverted to a logic of pressure. Meanwhile, Kommersant notes that after the New START Treaty expired on February 5, 2026, Russia and the United States have now spent six months without an active strategic arms control regime, although Moscow says it is ready to temporarily observe the previous limits provided Washington acts symmetrically. (russiancouncil.ru)

This is where perhaps the most unexpected common conclusion from Turkey, Russia and South Korea emerges. In none of these countries is the United States perceived as a declining power: its military actions in the Persian Gulf, trade demands toward Seoul, sanctions policy and Federal Reserve decisions are too significant to ignore. But America is increasingly less often viewed as a force capable of unilaterally creating a stable order. From the Turkish perspective, it creates a vacuum that regional actors must fill; from the Russian perspective, it demonstrates the limits of coercion and the inconsistency of its negotiating line; and from the Korean perspective, it remains an indispensable ally and market while simultaneously turning the alliance into a costly transaction. Today’s shared unease about the United States stems not from doubts about its power, but from doubts about whether its course can be relied upon.

❮ ❯

U.S. Pressure and Countervailing Diplomacy

Germany has welcomed the suspension of new tariffs against Canada and Brussels’ support for the International Criminal Court amid pressure from Washington. Turkey reports that Russia is ready for substantive dialogue with the United States. Taken together, these developments show how other countries are simultaneously resisting Washington’s economic and legal pressure, seeking diplomatic compromises, and striving to preserve room for negotiations. This article is based on publications by Euractiv.com (Germany) and Vietnam.vn (Turkey).

EU Supports ICC After U.S. Sanctions Imposed

The European Union has publicly defended the International Criminal Court following new U.S. sanctions targeting the Hague-based institution’s leadership and staff. As reported by the German edition of Euractiv, Brussels views the situation not only as a dispute over specific court decisions, but also as a question of preserving the independence of international justice.

European Commission President Ursula von der Leyen and European Council President António Costa declared their “firm support” for the International Criminal Court, its president Tomoko Akane, and all the institution’s staff. In their view, judges and officials must be able to perform their duties “independently and without external pressure.”

This wording reflects the EU’s fundamental position: investigations into the gravest international crimes must not depend on the political will of individual states. For European countries, the ICC remains an important element of a rules-based international order and a mechanism for holding perpetrators accountable for war crimes, crimes against humanity, and other serious violations.

Washington, by contrast, has sharply criticized the court. U.S. Secretary of State Marco Rubio called the ICC a “corrupt and fatally politicized supranational court,” accusing it of exceeding its authority. The U.S. administration is seeking to limit the court’s ability to act against U.S. citizens and their allies, particularly Israel.

The International Criminal Court itself has warned that the sanctions could undermine the rule of law and obstruct the work of an independent international justice mechanism. The court maintains that pressure on its staff and leadership affects not only specific investigations, but also the international community’s ability to prosecute those responsible for grave crimes.

For Germany, this debate carries particular political significance. Berlin has traditionally been among the ICC’s most consistent supporters, as well as a strong advocate of international criminal law. In the German view, the Hague court is not merely an international organization, but one of the institutions that enables states to defend human rights and legal norms without relying exclusively on military or economic power.

Brussels’ reaction to the U.S. sanctions therefore demonstrates another divergence between Europe and Washington in their approaches to international law. The EU emphasizes the court’s institutional autonomy and the need to shield it from outside influence, while the United States portrays the ICC as a politicized structure that threatens its sovereignty.

More broadly, the conflict affects Europe’s ability to pursue its own foreign-policy agenda concerning accountability for international crimes. Weakening the ICC could limit the EU’s ability to uphold the principle that war crimes and crimes against humanity must not go unpunished. That is why European support for the court in Brussels is seen as defending not only its staff, but also the very principle of an international legal order.

Moscow and Washington Maintain a Cautious Dialogue

Russia and the United States are coordinating the timing of the next round of bilateral contacts, while the details of the talks are not being disclosed by mutual agreement. Russian Foreign Ministry spokesperson Maria Zakharova said that this closed format is intended to preserve the effectiveness of diplomatic efforts, according to a Vietnam.vn report.

This is not a matter of full political reconciliation between Moscow and Washington, but rather an attempt to preserve practical channels of communication amid profound disagreements. Issues that the sides may discuss include the return of confiscated Russian diplomatic property, the restoration of the diplomatic missions’ full operations, and the possible resumption of direct air service.

This list shows that normalization, if possible, begins with the basic infrastructure of contact: the work of embassies and consulates, travel by citizens, diplomatic channels, and procedural matters. These issues attract less attention than statements on major international crises, yet they are precisely what allows states to maintain communication even in the absence of trust and amid continuing sanctions.

The continued communication channel between Russian Foreign Minister Sergey Lavrov and U.S. Secretary of State Marco Rubio is also significant. For countries interested in reducing international tensions, the very fact that direct dialogue continues means that there is an instrument for preventing further escalation and discussing unresolved problems.

This dynamic is being watched particularly closely in Turkey. Ankara remains a NATO member and maintains close relations with Washington, while at the same time preserving trade, energy, and tourism ties with Russia. Therefore, even a limited reduction in confrontation between Moscow and the United States could affect the situation in the Black Sea region, maritime security, energy routes, and tourism flows.

In recent years, Turkey has repeatedly sought to preserve negotiating platforms on the conflict in Ukraine, the grain corridor, and prisoner exchanges. From this perspective, the cautious return of Russia and the United States to substantive contacts is consistent with the logic of mediation: negotiations are needed not because the contradictions have disappeared, but because crises become less manageable without them.

As noted in the Vietnam.vn publication, the current Russian-American dialogue should be viewed primarily as a gradual and limited step toward conflict management. This is important for Turkey and other regional powers: maintaining channels of communication between the major players reduces uncertainty, whereas continued diplomatic restrictions and sanctions pressure increase the risks for states forced to balance between Russia and their Western partners.

❮ ❯

America as a Source of Dependence: Why Seoul, Tokyo and Jerusalem Now Debate the Price...

By August 19, 2026, American policy in South Korea, Japan and Israel had become not an abstract matter of interest in Washington, but an almost daily exercise in risk calculation. Three issues connect local debates: Donald Trump’s willingness to alter military commitments for the sake of negotiations and domestic political gains; US trade policy, which turns allies into targets of tariff pressure; and the war with Iran, which exposed the limits of American control over a crisis that the United States itself has largely shaped. The common conclusion among local commentators is stark: America remains indispensable, but it is no longer predictable.

The most acute issue in Seoul and Tokyo is Trump’s order to reduce the scale of the US–South Korean Ulchi Freedom Shield exercises, accompanied by his statement about having “very good relations” with Kim Jong-un. In South Korea, this is seen as more than an attempt to reopen a channel of dialogue with Pyongyang. Local analysis reflects a clear suspicion that the White House views the exercises primarily as an expensive budget item rather than as a demonstration of the alliance’s readiness. The newspaper Hankyoreh notes that the decision was made immediately before the exercises began and may be part of Trump’s attempt to shift attention from the protracted conflict with Iran to a high-profile North Korean diplomatic initiative. Kim Seong-bae, director of the Institute for National Security Strategy, proposes an alternative scenario: Seoul should use possible talks among the United States, China, North Korea and South Korea to discuss a peace regime and at least halt further expansion of North Korea’s nuclear capabilities. In his logic, this is no longer the old dream of rapid denuclearization, but a more modest strategy of limiting the threat. This South Korean debate is notable precisely for its realism: there is little hope for a grand bargain, but diplomatic space must be preserved.

In Japan, the reaction is much more cautious. For Tokyo, reducing the exercises is not an isolated Korean episode but a test of the entire deterrence architecture in Northeast Asia. A senior Japanese official quoted by Kyodo stresses that “the response to the threat must not be weakened,” especially as North Korea improves its missile and nuclear technologies and deepens military cooperation with Russia. Government circles assume that Trump’s primary aim is to reduce the cost of overseas defense; at the same time, they do not expect significant progress in US–North Korean negotiations. According to a representative of the Japanese headquarters dealing with the abduction issue, the United States “appears to have no trump card” for a new breakthrough. Yonhap reports on this in detail, citing Japanese sources. In other words, Seoul is still trying to see a diplomatic opening in the American maneuver, while Tokyo primarily sees the risk that Trump’s economic logic will begin to erode military deterrence.

The second shared source of anxiety is tariffs. In July, the US administration finalized measures under Section 301, formally justified by insufficient efforts to combat goods produced using forced labor. For South Korea and Japan, the applicable regime raises the combined tariff rate on many goods to 12.5%. Formally, this looks like a relatively mild outcome compared with the harsher rates imposed on other countries, but Seoul does not regard it as a victory. South Korea’s Ministry of Trade emphasizes that the negotiations only “partially reduced uncertainty,” since the US investigation into “excess capacity” is continuing. In other words, the agreement reached does not close the issue: Washington has retained an instrument that can be used to revise the terms again. The South Korean government’s explanation explicitly says that Seoul intends to preserve the previously agreed balance of interests and prevent the total tariff burden from exceeding the agreed ceiling.

Japan’s reaction is similar, but has its own nuance. Tokyo likewise stresses the principle of “non-stacking”—that new duties should not be imposed indefinitely on top of those already in effect. Japanese cabinet documents record that previous agreements set a ceiling for certain Japanese goods, but separate, particularly painful sectoral measures remain in place for automobiles and components, steel, aluminum, pharmaceuticals and high-tech semiconductors. To Japanese companies, American policy looks less like a unified tariff system than a constantly shifting map of exemptions and threats. The Tokyo government’s review effectively shows why Japan’s bureaucracy is so determined to secure confirmation of earlier agreements: what matters is not only the tariff level, but also confidence that it will not be revised after the next political statement from Washington.

This is where an unexpected common theme between Seoul and Tokyo becomes visible. Neither capital is publicly pursuing an anti-American line or speaking of a trade war with an ally. Their response is technocratic: establish ceilings, seek exemptions, invest in US production, and keep channels with the USTR and the US Department of Commerce functioning. But beneath this outward restraint lies a deeper sense of unease. An alliance with the United States no longer eliminates commercial vulnerability; on the contrary, it can sometimes make a country more vulnerable, since it is expected to provide both strategic loyalty and economic concessions.

In Israel, the same question of dependence on the United States is framed much more painfully—through the war and Iran. Israeli commentators are debating not whether America is strong enough, but whether a national strategy can be built on the expectation that Trump will carry the threat through at the decisive moment. Military commentator Ron Ben-Yishai expressed the concern in particularly stark terms in a commentary for Ynet: in his assessment, Israel has become a “US satellite” with little ability to influence its own fate. In another column, he identifies Trump’s main strategy as an effort to avoid a global energy crisis and defeat in the midterm elections, rather than to achieve the outcome in Iran that Israel considers necessary.

This assessment reveals an important divide between Jerusalem and Tokyo and Seoul. For the Asian allies, US unpredictability primarily means uncertainty about the durability of deterrence commitments. For Israel, it means the fear that American de-escalation could cement a dangerous but Washington-friendly equilibrium: oil continues to flow through the Strait of Hormuz, prices do not surge, while Iran’s infrastructure and regional network of pressure remain intact. Conservative Israeli columnist Ben-Dror Yemini describes the current formula of “quiet in exchange for quiet” as a gift to Tehran, allowing it to continue its nuclear program without sufficiently stringent oversight. Even in Israeli circles traditionally oriented toward the closest possible ties with the United States, the idea is gaining ground that close ties with one American president do not amount to a long-term guarantee.

Japan’s intellectual debate over the war with Iran leads to a similar, though less emotional, conclusion. At a forum organized by Genron NPO, researchers Kenta Aoki, Koichiro Tanaka and Yukihiro Suzuki agreed that the temporary US–Iran agreement had not eliminated the underlying contradictions, left the conditions for implementation vague and therefore could not reliably prevent hostilities from resuming. Their broader argument is especially important for Tokyo: the era in which the United States could single-handedly shape the regional order is coming to an end; Japan needs an independent diplomatic strategy, not merely the status of an American ally. This conclusion was articulated in the Genron NPO discussion. For a country whose postwar security was built around the American presence for decades, this represents an almost tectonic shift in language: not a rejection of the alliance, but recognition of its inadequacy.

In Seoul, the war in the Persian Gulf is discussed primarily through the lens of energy and export-oriented industry. South Korean experts emphasize that instability in the Strait of Hormuz quickly becomes a cost for the entire manufacturing economy—from petrochemicals and transportation to semiconductor production. A study by the Korea Institute for Industrial Economics and Trade warned that, under an extreme scenario involving a spike in oil and LNG prices, production costs in South Korean industry could rise by nearly 12%. For South Korea, therefore, American policy toward Iran is simultaneously a matter of security, inflation and the competitiveness of its exports. The contrast with Israel is particularly clear here: Jerusalem fears that Washington will be too accommodating toward Tehran, while Seoul fears both a new war and any breakdown in the ceasefire that could disrupt energy routes.

Taken together, these reactions do not paint a picture of “America’s decline,” but of an America whose power has become too concentrated in a single political center and therefore too dependent on the style of one president. Israel fears being drawn into an American deal that does not resolve its threats; Japan fears that savings on alliance commitments will undermine deterrence against North Korea; and South Korea is trying simultaneously to preserve the American shield, prevent Washington from imposing new trade costs and use a possible dialogue with Pyongyang to its own advantage.

The most substantive local idea uniting all three countries is that dependence on the United States can no longer be measured solely by the number of American bases, the volume of bilateral trade or the number of joint exercises. It is measured by an ally’s ability to withstand a sudden change in American policy. In Jerusalem, Seoul and Tokyo alike, governments are beginning to look not for a replacement for America—there is no such replacement for now—but for ways to reduce the cost of American unpredictability.

❮ ❯

America as a Constrained Ally: Why Seoul, Moscow and Israel Debate the Limits of US Power

In South Korean, Russian and Israeli discussions of the United States in mid-August 2026, one broad question dominates: how far can Washington go simultaneously in the Middle East, Europe and the Indo-Pacific—and what price will allies and adversaries pay for American involvement? The immediate trigger was a new phase in the US-Iranian bargaining over the Strait of Hormuz, where military posturing, sanctions pressure and negotiations are proceeding in parallel. But in Seoul, the crisis is read primarily through the condition of US arsenals and the opportunities it creates for Korean shipbuilders; in Israel, through the risk that Trump will prefer a controlled pause to a decisive campaign against Iran; and in Russia, as proof of the limits of American pressure and Tehran’s ability to impose its own pace on Washington.

The most prominent common theme is the transformation of strikes and threats into negotiating tools. Israeli commentator Itamar Eichner, in a Ynet commentary, directly described Trump’s approach as “negotiating with Iran through bombs.” In this interpretation, the US president is not seeking a major war: limited strikes should punish Tehran for pressuring shipping in the Strait of Hormuz, demonstrate toughness to American voters and force the Iranians to move more quickly toward a substantive deal. The Israeli logic here is particularly pragmatic: pressure on Iran is useful, but a war that does not eliminate the adversary’s nuclear and missile capabilities could leave Israel facing the same threat—with a less predictable ally.

Another Israeli author, Doron Hadar, in an analysis for the same publication, emphasizes not strength but the disruption of diplomatic momentum. The US-Iran memorandum signed in Versailles on June 17, 2026, was supposed to open a 60-day window for discussions on the nuclear program, oversight and sanctions; on July 8, Trump declared that the agreement was “over” for him. For Israeli observers, this is more than another shift in White House rhetoric. In a region where every attack on a ship, every dispute over inspections and every sanctions concession is seen as a test of the entire arrangement, America’s inconsistency itself becomes a factor in escalation. Hence the restrained, almost anxious conclusion of the Israeli press: a blockade and the economic depletion of Iran may be advantageous, but Washington’s strategy depends not only on military expediency, but also on the logic of the US political calendar—oil prices, the midterm elections and Trump’s personal need to demonstrate results.

In Russia’s expert community, the same story is interpreted almost as a mirror image. Sergei Balmasov, an expert at the Institute of Middle Eastern Studies and the Russian International Affairs Council, called Trump’s Iran policy an ongoing bluff in a commentary for Gazeta.Ru, remarking: “Trump is stamping his feet, the midterm elections are just around the corner, and so far there has been zero result with Iran.” This is a characteristic Russian perspective: Tehran is not so much cornered as using Hormuz as leverage, understanding the limits of America’s willingness to launch a protracted war. In an interview with Orientalist Grigory Lukyanov published by Lenta.ru, the state of “neither war nor peace” is described as advantageous for Iran: it can regulate the passage of ships, keep pressure on markets and bargain without giving up its key instruments of influence.

This Russian interpretation matters not because it is neutral, but because it reveals the local strategic calculation: Moscow sees the American overload in the Middle East not as an isolated crisis, but as a constraint on US global policy. The more resources, ammunition and political attention Washington spends in the Persian Gulf, the less convincing its promises to simultaneously contain Russia in Europe and China in Asia become. Russian commentary therefore readily emphasizes the gap between Trump’s statements and his willingness to carry his threats through. An August 9 RBC report saying that the United States was negotiating with Iran “half-heartedly” only reinforced this image: America wants to maintain pressure but does not want to pay for it with a major war. (kuban.rbc.ru)

In South Korea, the same shortage of American strength provokes neither schadenfreude nor mere concern, but calculated industrial interest. On August 5, the newspaper Hankyoreh reported that the war with Iran had, according to sources and analysts, sharply depleted US stocks of long-range precision weapons: the country had effectively exhausted its ATACMS reserves, used a significant share of its Tomahawks and substantially reduced the number of THAAD and Patriot interceptors. For Seoul, this is directly linked to the North Korean threat and a Taiwan contingency: the US alliance system in Asia is based not only on treaties, but also on the ability to rapidly deploy missiles, ships and air-defense systems.

The South Korean distinctive feature is that anxiety immediately turns into discussion of production capabilities. On August 14, Hankyoreh wrote about Trump’s intention to allow foreign shipbuilders investing in the United States to build up to two initial ships for the US Navy or auxiliary forces at their own shipyards before subsequent orders are transferred to expanded American facilities. In the newspaper’s report, the measure is directly linked to the Korean-American MASGA initiative—Make American Shipbuilding Great Again. For Korean commentators, this is a rare instance in which weakness in America’s industrial base creates not merely a market for Seoul, but a chance to embed itself in the military infrastructure of its main ally. Yet this also creates a dilemma: South Korea may profit from America’s shortages, while becoming more dependent on a country whose stocks and political attention are already divided among several crises.

This is the most unexpected common conclusion emerging from the three local debates. Israel fears that Washington will stop before the Iranian threat has been eliminated; Russia believes Washington is already being forced to stop; and South Korea is trying to turn that forced pause into orders for its shipyards and investment in American production. Yet all three countries agree on one point: the United States is no longer seen as a power automatically capable of guaranteeing security, imposing terms on adversaries and securing global trade at the same time. American power remains immense, but it is now assessed through bottlenecks—missiles, shipbuilding capacity, oil prices, negotiation timelines and domestic politics. These limits, rather than Trump’s next loud threat, are shaping the responses of Seoul, Moscow and Jerusalem today.

❮ ❯

America as a Source of Risk: How Israel, Russia and Brazil View Trump’s Policies

In mid-August 2026, the United States is simultaneously seen in Israel, Russia and Brazil as a force capable of radically changing the rules—military, diplomatic and trade-related. But a shared diagnosis does not mean a shared conclusion. In Israel, the main fear is that Washington may fail to push its pressure on Iran through to an outcome vital to Israeli security. In Russia, American involvement in the war with Iran is read as a sign of the United States’ strategic overstretch and as a possible opening for a new discussion on Ukraine. In Brazil, meanwhile, American policy is viewed primarily through its cost: oil-market volatility, the threat of inflation and unilateral tariffs on Brazilian exports. (ynet.co.il)

The most prominent common theme is the US war with Iran and the uncertainty surrounding the Strait of Hormuz. Israeli commentators are less concerned with the legality of the American strikes than with doubts about their political consistency. In an analysis by Ynet, Itamar Eichner describes the US precision attacks as a form of negotiation “by means of bombs”: according to this logic, Trump wants to punish Tehran, bring it back to the negotiating table and demonstrate resolve to his domestic audience, but does not want a new full-scale war. For Israel, this is an alarming scenario: limited force may keep the crisis in motion without eliminating either Iran’s missile capabilities or Tehran’s regional levers of pressure. (ynet.co.il)

This concern is also evident in Israel’s broader perception of its American ally. A June poll by the Institute for National Security Studies in Tel Aviv found that only 12% of respondents considered Trump “very committed” to protecting Israel’s interests; 66% said the recent US-Iran memorandum was bad for the country. Particularly telling here is not merely the decline in trust, but the acknowledgment of dependence: 58% of those surveyed believed that, in the event of a disagreement with Washington, Israel could act independently only to a limited extent or not at all. (inss.org.il)

That is why criticism of Trump in Israel’s debate does not amount to a call to distance the country from the United States. On the contrary, the author of an N12 column sets out an almost pragmatic doctrine: Washington should be addressed not in the language of emotional closeness, but in the language of American interests. This view is especially important because it reflects a shift within Israel’s elite: the problem is seen not only as an unpredictable president, but also as the weakening of public support for Israel within the United States itself. American power remains indispensable to Israel, but it is no longer perceived as automatically reliable. (mobile.mako.co.il)

The Russian public interpretation of the same crisis is almost a mirror image. Here, American restraint does not raise concerns for an ally; instead, it is presented as evidence that Washington is unable to achieve a strategic victory by force. In a commentary by RIA Novosti, the formula “neither war nor peace” takes hold: negotiations may be extended for short periods, Iran may remain ready to retaliate, and the United States may limit itself to threats and occasional strikes. From this perspective, Hormuz is not merely a sea route, but proof that even the superior military power of the United States cannot painlessly impose a new regional order. (ria.ru)

This leads to Russia’s interest in a second issue: the possible return of the United States to mediation over Ukraine. Marco Rubio’s statement that Washington would assess the possibility of resuming talks between Moscow and Kyiv in the coming weeks is perceived in Russia as a signal that, after being distracted by Iran, the White House is seeking a foreign-policy result in another war. (interfax.ru) In an article by Gazeta.Ru, this expectation takes the form of hope for a direct Russia-US-Ukraine format, combined with skepticism about European participation, which Russian commentators often view as that of a party interested in continuing maximum pressure on Moscow. (gazeta.ru)

Here, an important difference from the Israeli reaction becomes apparent. Israel sees America’s inclination toward a deal as a risk of a premature compromise with Iran; Russian discourse, by contrast, sees in that same inclination an opportunity to establish a negotiating format in which the United States would be not the arbiter of the Western bloc, but an independent power willing to bargain. Yet both countries agree on one point: Trump’s policies are perceived not as a system of lasting commitments, but as a series of deals dependent on current military pressure, energy prices and the US domestic political calendar. (ynet.co.il)

Brazil’s reaction to America is the most material—and therefore perhaps the most unexpected. For Brasília, the war in the Persian Gulf is not distant geopolitics, but a factor in domestic economic stability. In a document from Brazil’s Ministry of Development, Industry, Foreign Trade and Services, the US-Iran escalation is directly linked to threats to shipping, higher freight and insurance costs, and a jump in Brent crude above $78 a barrel. For an oil-exporting country, expensive oil simultaneously generates revenue and heightens the risk of inflation, which is why Brazilian authorities do not romanticize the crisis as a favorable market situation. (gov.br)

Political scientist Oswaldo Deon, speaking in an interview with the parliamentary television channel of the state of Minas Gerais, drew a broader conclusion: “the post-World War II architecture has come to an end.” In the Brazilian context, this is not merely a criticism of the war. It describes a world in which the United States uses force in the Middle East, employs tariffs as a political instrument in relations with partners and at the same time demands security cooperation from countries in the Western Hemisphere. That is why in Brazil the war with Iran and the trade dispute with Washington are increasingly being connected in a single discussion about sovereignty. (almg.gov.br)

The tariff issue is even more acute in Brazil than the Iranian one. According to Brazil’s Ministry of Development, Industry, Foreign Trade and Services, additional US tariffs of 25% and 12.5% affected 23.1% of Brazilian exports; during the first half of the year, shipments to the United States fell by 13% compared with the same period in 2025. Lula’s government responded by requesting consultations at the WTO, calling the measures unjustified and incompatible with US obligations under the rules of global trade. (gov.br)

This produces the main common conclusion from the Israeli, Russian and Brazilian debates. America remains the central power—military, financial and diplomatic—but its partners and rivals are increasingly planning their policies not around American guarantees, but around American unpredictability. Israel is trying to persuade Washington not to replace pressure on Iran with an overly lenient deal. Russia hopes that US fatigue with foreign wars will bring Washington back to bilateral diplomacy over Ukraine. Brazil is seeking to limit the damage from American policy through the WTO, market diversification and protection of its domestic economy. The three countries speak in different languages, but all their reactions share one idea: today, the United States is not only a source of decisions, but also an independent source of global instability.

❮ ❯

America as a Deal-Making Ally: Why Seoul, Moscow and Israel Are Increasingly Discussing Not U.S

By August 18, 2026, the central theme in South Korean, Russian and Israeli discussions of America was no longer the abstract “role of Washington in the world,” but a practical question: can Donald Trump’s administration wage war, negotiate, apply tariff pressure and still retain its allies’ trust at the same time? The question sounds different in each of the three countries, but the underlying concern is the same: the United States is still seen as an indispensable, but increasingly unpredictable, power. The sharpest catalyst is the conflict with Iran and the White House’s constantly shifting line between threats of new strikes and promises of an imminent deal.

In Israel, this duality is provoking a particularly nervous reaction. Israeli commentators generally do not doubt that direct American military involvement has radically shifted the balance of power against Iran. But they increasingly see Trump not as a president prepared to expand the war indefinitely for the sake of an ally, but as a politician seeking to quickly turn military pressure into a personal diplomatic victory. In an analysis for Ynet, Itamar Eichner describes the American tactic almost as negotiations “by bombs”: in his assessment, the president is not seeking a full-scale new war, but is attempting to use military strikes to force Tehran to accept terms for ending the conflict. This is an important Israeli reading of the situation: Washington is not abandoning force, but is using it primarily as a means of reducing its own involvement.

This produces an Israeli paradox. Some experts welcome the far more active American policy than before. In an analysis for Globes, Dan Diker, president of the Jerusalem Center for Foreign and Security Policy, argues that Trump has understood the need for American leadership in confronting the Iranian regime. Yet the same article presents another, more troubling line of thought: the war is already facing opposition within the United States—from both Democrats and the isolationist wing of the Republican Party. For Israel, this means that Washington’s support remains a strategic pillar, but its duration depends not only on the situation in the Middle East, but also on the U.S. domestic political calendar, above all the midterm elections in November 2026.

The Russian debate looks at the same story from the opposite side, but reaches a similar conclusion about the instability of America’s policy. In Moscow, the war with Iran is often interpreted not as a consistent strategy for establishing a new regional order, but as Trump’s attempt to combine a show of force with the search for a high-profile deal. In a Vedomosti article, Alexei Yurk, a researcher at the Primakov Institute of World Economy and International Relations, warns that a possible U.S.-Iran agreement risks remaining a nonbinding memorandum with deliberately vague wording, allowing all sides to declare victory. This is not simply anti-American rhetoric: the Russian expert identifies a lack of trust between Washington and Tehran, meaning that even a formal agreement would not guarantee lasting peace.

This also informs Russia’s broader interpretation of its relationship with the United States. In an interview with Vedomosti, Victoria Zhuravleva, deputy director of the Primakov Institute of World Economy and International Relations, speaks of the mutually distorted perceptions held by Russia and America, intensified by the breakdown of expert and personal contacts. Significantly, in Russian circles Trump is increasingly less likely to be viewed as an automatically “convenient” leader for Moscow. His desire to negotiate over Ukraine may create room for dialogue, but sanctions, Congress, European pressure and Washington’s willingness to use force in other regions remain in place. The Russian view is therefore more cynical than optimistic: America under Trump may be less ideological, but that does not make it any less competitive or dangerous.

South Korea adds a distinct dimension to this picture—the fear that American resources may be depleted and alliance commitments turned into bargaining chips. The South Korean newspaper Hankyoreh draws attention to assessments that the war with Iran has already significantly reduced U.S. stocks of certain critical munitions, including air-defense systems and cruise missiles. For Seoul, this is not a remote detail of a Middle Eastern war. Any decline in stocks of Patriots, Tomahawks and other systems immediately raises the question of whether the United States would have sufficient resources in the event of a crisis around Taiwan or a new escalation on the Korean Peninsula. In other words, in Korea, America is discussed not only as a security guarantor, but also as a power with limited reserves of attention, missiles and political will.

The economic side of American unpredictability is causing no less irritation in Seoul. An editorial in Hankyoreh about the new 12.5% U.S. tariff stresses that imposing a duty on South Korea on the grounds that it has taken insufficient measures against products made with forced labor demonstrates the Trump administration’s determination to maintain protectionist barriers by any means. The editorial explicitly warns that even when Washington confirms previous agreements, relying on them is dangerous precisely because of the unpredictable nature of the current administration. For a country whose export model depends simultaneously on the U.S. market, technology chains and demand for semiconductors, this is almost a formula for strategic vulnerability: an ally in security can become a source of a trade shock at any moment.

The most unexpected common conclusion emerging from the Israeli, Russian and South Korean reactions is that the dispute is no longer about whether America is “strong.” None of these countries questions its military, financial or technological power. The dispute concerns how that power is used. Israel fears that the United States may too quickly choose a deal over the final elimination of the threat. Russia believes that American deals often depend on domestic political needs and therefore struggle to survive their first serious crisis. South Korea sees the risk that Washington’s global activism is simultaneously depleting its military stocks and making economic relations conditional.

In this sense, Trump’s America is perceived in all three countries as a state that demands greater self-reliance from its partners, but does not always give them the time, predictability or rules they need to achieve it. For Israel, this means preparing for the moment when the United States says: the military phase is sufficient—now negotiate. For South Korea, it means accelerating its own defense and technological safeguards without abandoning the alliance. For Russia, it means building expectations neither around détente nor around a final break, because American policy is increasingly moving not along a straight strategic path, but from deal to crisis and from crisis to the next deal.

❮ ❯

America Demands Loyalty but Offers Uncertainty

In Germany, Israel, and Australia, the discussion about America in mid-August 2026 is focused almost entirely on the war with Iran, but the subject of debate is no longer limited to the military campaign itself. The central question uniting German, Israeli, and Australian commentators is much broader: can Donald Trump’s administration turn the use of force into a sustainable political outcome—and what should allies do when Washington simultaneously demands participation, changes the terms, and rushes to declare a deal a victory? From the local perspective, the United States no longer appears to be the familiar guarantor of order, but rather a power whose actions create new risks for its partners, from security to energy prices.

The German response is particularly focused on the gap between American rhetoric and strategy. In an interview with Tagesschau, Sasha Lohmann, an expert at the German Institute for International and Security Affairs, described Trump’s policy as “Strategielosigkeit”—a lack of strategy. For Germany, this is not merely a moral reproach: wavering over strikes, negotiations, and freedom of navigation in the Strait of Hormuz is seen as a mechanism that drives up oil prices, fuels inflation, and makes any diplomatic de-escalation extremely fragile. The German press sees the American problem primarily as one of manageability: the president must show strength, avoid a protracted war, and prevent the costs of the conflict from damaging his standing ahead of the midterm elections. (tagesschau.de)

This also explains German skepticism toward the very idea of a “deal.” In Tagesschau’s analysis of the situation in the Strait of Hormuz, the conflict is described as a state between war and negotiations: Tehran can inflict global economic damage through relatively inexpensive attacks and threats to shipping, while the United States has no good choice between major escalation, retreat, and an endless cycle of limited retaliatory strikes. In another interview with the outlet, expert Guido Steinberg says directly that he sees no compromise solution to the nuclear issue. In the German reading, this means that American military power has not disappeared, but its conversion into order and rules has become questionable. (tagesschau.de)

The Israeli debate is more emotional because, for Israel, American inconsistency is not an abstract alliance problem but a direct national-security risk. In a Ynet commentary, Itamar Eichner offers an interpretation characteristic of part of the Israeli establishment: Trump is using pinpoint strikes as a way of negotiating with bombs, seeking to pressure Tehran into moving faster without returning to a full-scale war. The author links this haste to domestic U.S. politics—the midterm elections, oil prices, and the president’s desire to preserve his image as a peacemaker. In other words, Washington, in the Israeli assessment, is acting less according to the logic of eliminating the threat once and for all than according to the logic of limited pressure designed to produce a rapid political effect. (ynet.co.il)

But this is precisely what generates an anxiety in Israel that is largely absent from German articles: the fear that the United States will conclude an agreement convenient for America but insufficient for Israel. In an analytical article in The Times of Israel, David Horovitz writes about the divergence between Washington’s and Jerusalem’s goals: for Trump, stabilizing the Strait of Hormuz and lifting the energy shock are becoming priorities, while Israel fears that key military and nuclear threats will remain unresolved. In another Ynet commentary, Eichner puts it even more bluntly: Benjamin Netanyahu’s reliance on his personal closeness with Trump has turned into dependence on a president who can quickly change course. This is an important and less obvious local point: Israeli criticism does not necessarily call for greater U.S. involvement; some commentators are demanding greater predictability and recognition that the interests of allies are not identical. (timesofisrael.com)

The Australian response revolves around a different question: where the boundary of allied obligations to the United States lies. Canberra does not want a break with Washington, but it refused to send ships for an operation in the Strait of Hormuz despite Trump’s public irritation. In an ABC analysis, the refusal is described as a possible “red line” for Australia: the country condemns Iran’s actions but is not prepared to enter automatically into a war whose planning it was not involved in. Even conservative Andrew Hastie described Trump’s attack as “petulant”; this is significant because dissatisfaction with the American style here extends beyond ordinary partisan divisions. (abc.net.au)

Australians also see the conflict not as a distant Middle Eastern drama but as a test of their own strategic independence. An ABC column on AUKUS voices concern that the defense partnership with the United States is physically and politically drawing Australia into American decisions, even as the Australian government tries to distance itself. Prime Minister Anthony Albanese, as ABC notes, expressed “very serious concern” about the humanitarian and global economic consequences of the escalation. From this perspective, the alliance with the United States remains necessary because of China and the broader security architecture of the Indo-Pacific, but it is no longer seen as an unconditional safeguard against crises: it can itself become a channel through which they are imported. (abc.net.au)

A common international diagnosis is therefore taking shape. Germany sees the United States as a source of strategic volatility and economic risk; Israel sees it as an indispensable but increasingly unreliable patron capable of placing its own deal above Israeli objectives; and Australia sees it as an ally whose closeness requires increasingly clear national limits. The degree of dependence on Washington differs enormously among these countries, but the conclusion is the same: the era when American support automatically meant agreement with the American course is ending. Allies are no longer discussing whether they are prepared to stand alongside the United States, but how to avoid becoming hostages to American improvisation.

❮ ❯

America as a Source of Risk: Why India, Japan and Brazil Increasingly Talk Not About Alliance with the...

In India, Japan and Brazil, discussion of America in mid-August 2026 revolves around two interconnected issues: the US war with Iran and a new wave of trade pressure from Washington. But local commentary no longer sees these as a collection of separate foreign-policy episodes. A broader conclusion is taking shape: the United States remains an indispensable power—military, financial and technological—yet its decisions increasingly appear to partners not as a guarantee of order, but as an independent source of strategic, economic and political risk.

The sharpest common concern is the impact of the US-Iranian confrontation on the Strait of Hormuz. For Indian commentators, this is above all not a story about a distant Middle East, but about the vulnerability of their own economy. An Indian Express analysis emphasizes that Washington’s attempt to undermine Tehran’s ability to control the strait produced the opposite result: Iran turned the very threat to shipping into its main bargaining tool. For New Delhi, this means threats to energy supplies, rising insurance and freight costs, inflation and pressure on the rupee. The Indian government publicly expressed “deep concern” over the attack on commercial shipping and the new escalation, calling on the parties to exercise restraint. The wording is telling: India is not severing its strategic ties with the US, but it refuses to be politically bound to the American military logic. (indianexpress.com)

Indian criticism is considerably more substantive than simple anti-Americanism. Shashi Tharoor, a member of Parliament and former UN under-secretary-general, called the outcome of the American campaign a deal worse than the previous one in a column for Indian Express: Washington used force but achieved neither the destruction of Iran’s missile capabilities nor a lasting political settlement. In this interpretation, the main problem with the US is not a lack of power, but the mismatch between maximalist goals, changing negotiating conditions and the actual result. Indian expert Sanjay Kumar Verma makes a similar point in an ORF study in Hindi: the war demonstrated the limits of American power and showed that alliances are sustained not by weapons, but by trust, dialogue and clarity of purpose. In the view of many Indian observers, trust is precisely what is now lacking.

In Japan, the same war is viewed far less ideologically and far more anxiously—through the price of oil, the yen’s exchange rate and household sentiment. Nobuhide Kiuchi, executive economist at the Nomura Research Institute, warns in his analysis that a new blockade of the Strait of Hormuz threatens Japan with shortages of crude oil and naphtha, accelerating price growth and worsening expectations among businesses and consumers. His important observation is that the danger to Japan lies not only in an actual interruption of supplies. Even the expectation of another round of strikes between the US and Iran sets off a chain reaction: oil prices rise, the yen weakens, and imported inflation hits real incomes.

This explains the distinctive Japanese perspective. Tokyo does not dispute that the security of shipping is a legitimate international concern. But it is increasingly asking whether American policy is capable of providing that security. After a temporary US-Iranian agreement was signed in June, only for hostilities and blockade threats to return in July, the very meaning of “guarantees” was called into question. Japanese analysts see a paradox: the US is far less dependent on Middle Eastern oil than Japan, yet American decisions determine whether the Japanese economy will pay for a new wave of instability. (nri.com)

Brazil’s reaction is more politicized. In an editorial by Folha de S.Paulo, Donald Trump’s actions in Iran are described as a return to “endless war”—that is, precisely the type of foreign intervention he once promised to abandon. For the Brazilian press, what matters is not only the humanitarian or military aspect, but also the fact that Iran managed to turn attacks on tankers and the risk to the Strait of Hormuz into a tool for influencing the global energy market. This is seen as further proof that coercive force without a durable diplomatic framework does not restore control; instead, it raises the cost of chaos for the entire Global South.

US trade policy causes no less irritation, although the nature of the complaints differs in the three countries. In Brazil, it has effectively become part of domestic electoral politics and the debate over sovereignty. New American tariffs have compounded earlier accusations of “unfair” practices, in which Washington has mixed trade issues with Brazil’s regulation of digital platforms, its Pix instant-payment system, environmental matters and forced-labor issues. Analyst Lourival Sant’Anna stated directly in a CNN Brasil article that the justifications for the American tariffs had changed in search of a legally acceptable framework, not because the substance of the complaints had changed. He called Brazil’s position the “worst case” because of the cumulative application of tariffs and the lack of transparency surrounding the criteria. (cnnbrasil.com.br)

What is particularly painful in Brazil’s perception is the selective nature of American pressure. The issue is not simply the access of goods to the US market: many commentators see an attempt to punish Brazil for pursuing an independent digital and industrial policy, as well as for refusing to shape its domestic democratic agenda according to American political templates. Brasília’s response therefore combines caution with demonstrative firmness: the government does not want a trade war, but neither does it want to create the impression that pressure from Washington can determine the rules governing Pix, digital platforms or Brazilian institutions.

In Japan, the tone is more restrained, but the concern is no less serious. Here, American tariffs are interpreted as a systemic problem of predictability. The Japanese government and businesses are trying to operate within the framework of agreements and exemptions, but the US approach—first issuing a threat, then negotiating individual concessions, and subsequently introducing new sector-specific measures—undermines the familiar logic of long-term planning. In July, Washington introduced a new country-based tariff regime affecting Japanese exports, while in recent days measures concerning drones and components have also come to the fore. For Tokyo, this is an unpleasant signal: even an allied status and investment in the American economy do not protect Japan from trade policy being used as an instrument of immediate political bargaining. (pwc.com)

India draws perhaps the most strategic conclusion on this issue. In an ORF commentary in Hindi, American policy is described as reflecting an inability to fully accept India as an equal partner rather than a junior ally. Following tariff threats, restrictions surrounding H-1B visas, American contacts with Pakistan and attempts to pressure India through its ties with Russia, Indian debate is increasingly less focused on the question of “how to return to the former closeness with the US.” Instead, it is discussing balance: expanding ties with America where it is advantageous—in technology, defense and the Indo-Pacific—but simultaneously strengthening relations with Europe, the Gulf states and Russia, and even stabilizing relations with China.

This is the shared, though differently expressed, conclusion reached by India, Japan and Brazil. None of the three countries is currently seeking a break with the US. Japan objectively cannot replace the American security umbrella; India values access to technology and cooperation against Chinese pressure; and Brazil remains interested in the world’s largest consumer market. However, each is learning to reduce its dependence on American will. For India, this means strategic autonomy; for Japan, economic insurance against shocks; and for Brazil, protection of its political and technological sovereignty.

The most unexpected common feature of these reactions is not fear of American weakness, but anxiety about American impulsiveness. Washington remains capable of launching strikes, imposing tariffs and changing global markets with a single decision. But this very capability, when exercised without a consistent diplomatic strategy, is forcing partners to prepare not for peace under American leadership, but for a world in which they need their own insurance against American leadership.

❮ ❯

America as a Source of Risk, Deals and Temptation: What South Africa, France and Turkey Are Saying About...

In South African, French and Turkish debates, the United States is now seen not as a distant superpower setting the overall global order, but as a direct producer of instability—military, trade-related, humanitarian and political. The most prominent common theme is the American policy toward Iran and the Strait of Hormuz. But behind it lies a broader conclusion among local commentators: under Donald Trump, Washington is increasingly acting through pressure, threats and bilateral deals, while allies and countries dependent on American decisions have to do less to share the US strategy than to insure themselves against its consequences.

In France, the reaction to the resumption of American bombardment of Iran after the June memorandum is particularly sharp because it combines legal and strategic arguments. Martin Cudey-Matinier, an expert at the Paris-based Institut Montaigne, writes in his analysis, “From Self-Defense to Punitive War”, that the return of US strikes on July 7 raises doubts about Washington’s stated goal of protecting shipping in the Strait of Hormuz. In his assessment, the American campaign increasingly looks like a “punitive operation,” fraught with violations of international law and questionable in terms of its own effectiveness. (institutmontaigne.org) French concern here is not limited to sympathy for Tehran: it reflects fear that the White House is replacing an achievable goal—ensuring the safety of maritime routes—with unlimited coercion against an entire country. For Paris, this substitution also means a loss of European influence: when diplomacy becomes an appendage to an American ultimatum, Europe ends up paying for decisions it did not make.

The Turkish perspective is noticeably more pragmatic, but no less wary. Turkish analyses focus primarily on the risk of a protracted war near the country’s own regional borders, the impact on trade and energy supplies, and whether Ankara can turn the crisis into diplomatic room for maneuver. In a Türkiye Araştırmaları Vakfı article, the June US-Iran memorandum is described not as a full-fledged peace agreement, but as a temporary, 60-day ceasefire following a devastating war. (turkiyearastirmalari.org) And in an analysis by former US ambassador Robert Stephen Ford published by the Turkish Anadolu Agency, it was noted that an intensification of the war in Iran, combined with inflation and high interest rates, could become a serious domestic political problem for Republicans in the United States. This analysis matters to Turkish audiences not only as a perspective on American elections: it reinforces the local view that Trump may change course under pressure from his own electoral and economic agenda. (aa.com.tr) In other words, Ankara is less concerned with the moral character of American power than with its unpredictability.

South African criticism goes further still: the American war around Iran is viewed as part of an order in which powerful states present their own coercion as the defense of rules. In a Mail & Guardian column, the conflict around Hormuz is described as Iran’s confrontation with a “US-centric order” that uses war, sanctions and the seizure of ships while couching these actions in the language of international law. (mg.co.za) This is a framework characteristic of South Africa—a BRICS country with a strong anticolonial political tradition: the question is not how Washington can win the conflict, but why the United States alone continues to retain the right to determine whose trade, security and sovereignty are legitimate.

The second overarching theme is American economic policy as an instrument of political coercion. In France, this is felt through tariff uncertainty. The debate is no longer so much about whether an EU-US agreement is beneficial in itself, but whether an arrangement whose terms Washington can revisit by threatening new tariffs can be considered an agreement at all. The French customs administration reports that the US 10 percent levy under Section 122 expired on July 24, 2026, while the EU was simultaneously adjusting its tariff regime for some American imports. The official clarification demonstrates how technical and fragile this bargaining process has become. (douane.gouv.fr) Behind the bureaucratic language lies a political emotion: France sees American tariffs not as an ordinary dispute over market access, but as a test of Europe’s ability to act as an independent economic center.

In South Africa, American pressure has a far more tangible cost: it affects the HIV treatment system, research and employment in the public health sector. A Physicians for Human Rights report states that by the end of March 2026, programs addressing HIV, tuberculosis, malaria and primary care remained disrupted after American cuts, while funding for South Africa was further suspended based on Trump administration claims about “white genocide.” The report on the impact of the cuts emphasizes that Washington did not conclude a new memorandum with Pretoria to continue medical funding. (phr.org) The local reaction therefore differs from France’s: for Paris, American tariff policy is a challenge to the sovereignty of the European market, whereas for South Africa, the termination of American programs is seen as a threat to patients and a painful reminder of dependence on an external donor. In their editorial, editors at the South African publication Spotlight call the past year a difficult one for researchers and acknowledge that emergency national funding can soften, but not compensate for, the blow caused by the sudden reduction in American support. (spotlightnsp.co.za)

This is where one of the most unexpected local conclusions emerges. The South African debate is not limited to condemning the United States: it turns the American withdrawal into an argument for domestic self-reliance—for funding research and medical services through South African, African and multilateral sources. This is not romanticism about “breaking with the West,” but a lesson in vulnerability: aid that can be canceled by an administrative decision in Washington cannot serve as the foundation of a national healthcare system.

Turkey, by contrast, sees transactionalism under Trump as both a danger and an opportunity. After the July NATO summit in Ankara, the question of the F-35 and the lifting of restrictions became the main symbol of this duality. President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan stressed, “The F-35 is not a new issue for us; we have already discussed it with the American side,” as reported by the Turkish economic publication Uzmanpara. (uzmanpara.milliyet.com.tr) The Turkish reaction contains fewer illusions about the reliability of the United States than hopes that personal diplomacy with Trump can deliver concrete concessions—on aircraft, sanctions or the defense industry. Significantly, in an Anadolu review, international attention to the possibility of lifting sanctions and selling F-35s is presented as evidence of Turkey’s growing regional influence. (aa.com.tr)

The third common thread is the increasingly personalized nature of American power. The French press sees this as institutional degradation. In a July article marking the 250th anniversary of American independence, the Le Monde editorial board writes that the anniversary has turned into a celebration of Trump himself, against a backdrop of polarization and the deterioration of the United States’ international image. (lemonde.fr) South African authors draw a different, almost pedagogical lesson for their own country. In a Mail & Guardian column on the risk of a “Trump-like leader” emerging, the author links the American phenomenon to economic anxiety, cultural alienation and distrust of institutions, warning that even a mature democracy is not immune to erosion. (mg.co.za)

This produces a coherent, though varied, picture. France views the United States as an ally whose military and trade unpredictability is pushing Europe toward strategic autonomy. Turkey sees the same Washington as a power with which it must bargain hard, extracting benefits from its need for regional partners but not relying on its consistency. South Africa perceives America’s turn as both a humanitarian threat and proof that dependence on external goodwill is strategically dangerous. The common denominator is not anti-Americanism as such. It is the belief that Trump’s America has become less of a universal guarantor and more of a variable factor—one against which other countries must protect their markets, their security and even their hospitals.

❮ ❯

America as a Source of Risk: France, South Korea and South Africa Debate More Than War with...

In mid-August 2026, the United States is provoking a reaction in France, South Korea and South Africa united by one perception: American power is no longer automatically seen as stabilizing. The main issue is the new uncertainty surrounding the U.S.–Iran conflict, the Strait of Hormuz and American demands on partners. But deeper questions lie beneath it: can Washington’s agreements be trusted, who will pay for the security of maritime routes, and does the United States have the right to turn trade, aid and participation in international forums into instruments of political coercion?

In the French debate, the American strategy toward Iran is described above all as an example of dangerous inconsistency. Paris does not reduce the issue to sympathy or antipathy toward Tehran: for French experts, the key question is how the military campaign launched by the United States and Israel on February 28 turned into a struggle for control of Hormuz and a threat to global trade. Clément Therme, a researcher at the French Institute of International Relations, directly called this transition a “battle for Hormuz” in an Ifri commentary. The geography is not the only important element in this formula: France sees that the conflict has ceased to be a local operation against Iran and become a test of the United States’ ability to manage the consequences of its own decision.

French anxiety is both strategic and political. Strategically, it is linked to risks to shipping, energy prices and the European economy. Politically, it stems from the fact that the U.S.–Iran memorandum of June proved to be not a lasting peace, but a postponement of a new phase of the conflict. Historian Pierre Razoux stressed in an analysis for Public Sénat that it was merely a nonbinding memorandum under international law and had not received parliamentary approval. The French conclusion is therefore that diplomacy built around a personal “deal” by the U.S. president may halt the fighting temporarily, but cannot replace a durable agreement, verification mechanisms and collective diplomacy.

It is particularly noteworthy that France does not regard American military power as a guarantee of a well-conceived strategy. Ifri Director Thomas Gomart noted that Iran had used its main resource—geography—to strike not so much at its opponents’ armies as at the global economy, and that Washington, in his assessment, was unprepared for this. The idea is developed further in the institute’s analysis: U.S. power is being called into question not because it has disappeared, but because it failed to prevent the war’s most predictable consequence—the transformation of Hormuz into a lever of pressure on the entire world. For French audiences, this is another argument in favor of European strategic autonomy: not a break with the United States, but the ability to act when American decisions create threats that Europe must then contain collectively.

In South Korea, the same story sounds less ideological but far more material. Seoul is discussing not so much the merits of American Middle East policy as a concrete question: how long can the country’s economy function with unstable access to Middle Eastern oil and gas? In a special report, the Korea Institute for Industrial Economics and Trade warned that even after the formal end of the war, risks surrounding Hormuz had not disappeared: sanctions, Iran’s nuclear program, enforcement of agreements and shipping were all deferred to subsequent negotiations. In other words, for Korea, “peace” does not mean the restoration of previous prices, routes and insurance premiums.

This perspective received fresh confirmation in early August, when Donald Trump canceled a planned strike, citing an emerging agreement to open the strait, although Iran’s actual acceptance of those terms remained unclear, as Hankyoreh noted. In the Korean view, this is not a diplomatic intrigue taking place somewhere far from the peninsula: the country imports about 70% of its oil from the Middle East, while the industry already considers supplies after September particularly vulnerable, as Maeil Business reported. The central concern in South Korea’s reaction is therefore the ally’s dependence on U.S. decisions, over which Seoul has only limited influence.

This leads to a second, more delicate Korean issue: American pressure on allies to participate in ensuring freedom of navigation. Seoul is publicly trying to avoid appearing to be a country ordered to send ships. The presidential administration said that the United States had not formally requested the deployment of warships, but that Korea was considering “options for a practical contribution.” This wording appears in a report by Kyunghyang Shinmun. It reflects South Korea’s ambivalence: the security of Hormuz is indeed a vital national interest, yet direct involvement in the American confrontation with Iran could create new risks—from retaliatory threats to shipping to complications in relations with other regional players. Unlike France, where the discussion centers on European autonomy, Korea is debating a narrower but painful question: where does alliance solidarity end and involvement in someone else’s war begin?

South Africa views the United States through a completely different, yet related, lens: sovereignty and Washington’s right to determine who counts as an acceptable partner. Pretoria condemned the U.S.–Israeli strikes as a violation of the prohibition on the use of force enshrined in the UN Charter, in an official government statement. It later welcomed the U.S.–Iran memorandum as a chance for the immediate and permanent cessation of military operations, as reported by South Africa’s Department of International Relations and Cooperation. This sequence is telling: South Africa criticizes the war itself but does not reject diplomacy when it reduces risks to the region and the Global South.

However, in the local debate, the conflict over Iran cannot be separated from the broader confrontation with the United States. American complaints about land reform, affirmative action, and Pretoria’s relations with Iran and Palestine are seen as an attempt to place South Africa’s domestic policy under external supervision. In March, the U.S. ambassador presented the government with five conditions for improving relations, including distancing itself from Iran and changing its land-reform policies, as reported by the Associated Press. For South African politicians and commentators, this is not merely diplomatic toughness but a return to a logic in which the United States recognizes a partner’s equality only on the condition of political loyalty.

That is why the question of the G20 is perceived as particularly painful. The U.S. presidency of the group in 2026 and South Africa’s exclusion from the summit in Miami became symbols of the use of a multilateral forum as an instrument of punishment. An analysis by the Council on Foreign Relations notes that Washington intends to narrow the G20 agenda to “basic” economic issues, while South African priorities—solidarity, equality, sustainability and the debt burden of poor countries—were characterized in the United States as inconsistent with the America First agenda. For Pretoria, this is not a procedural dispute but a struggle over whether Africa’s voice in the global economy will be recognized as legitimate.

The overall conclusion from the French, South Korean and South African reactions is not reducible to anti-Americanism. In all three countries, the United States remains too important—as an ally, market, military power and center of the global financial system—to simply ignore. But the nature of the relationship is changing. France fears Washington’s strategic improvisation; South Korea is calculating the cost of dependence on American decisions and calls for a “contribution”; South Africa is resisting the transformation of American foreign policy into a test of political obedience. America still sets the international agenda, but increasingly as a factor against which others must insure themselves.

❮ ❯

America as a Source of Risk and Opportunity: What India, China and Ukraine Think About the New...

By mid-August 2026, the United States had simultaneously become India’s, China’s and Ukraine’s main external partner, main source of uncertainty, and the center of several interconnected crises. Local discussions are no longer focused so much on the abstract concept of “American leadership” as on practical questions: Is it possible to build a trade strategy around tariffs that Washington changes through legal maneuvering? Could the US war with Iran turn global energy into another instrument of pressure? And will the White House continue to pay political attention to the war in Ukraine?

The broadest reaction in all three countries is distrust of America’s predictability. Yet this distrust means something entirely different in each case. In India, it does not cancel out the desire to reach an agreement with Washington. In China, it serves as an argument against America’s right to set rules for everyone else. In Ukraine, it is seen as a direct existential risk, but also as an opportunity to prove the country’s strategic usefulness to the United States.

The Indian debate shows particularly clearly that even a relatively mild tariff outcome is not perceived as normalization. After the United States imposed a 10 percent tariff as part of Section 301 investigations, New Delhi found itself in the same group as Canada, the United Kingdom, Mexico and several Asian countries, while China faced a rate of 12.5 percent. Formally, this looks like a concession to India. But the key conclusion in an Indian Express analysis is different: American trade policy is increasingly linking market access to demands that go far beyond trade itself.

This is precisely what Indian commentators call the “carrot-and-stick” problem. An Indian Express column emphasizes that an agreement with the United States could require India to make concessions on its agricultural market, energy and trade sovereignty, while refusing a deal could bring fresh pressure on the rupee, investment and exports. For Indian commentators, the key question is no longer whether America serves as a counterweight to China—which remains important—but whether a partnership with the United States can exist without a constant price being demanded for political loyalty.

Significantly, the editorial position of Business Standard does not call for a retaliatory trade war. The newspaper advocates continuing negotiations while acknowledging that tariffs are a central instrument of American policy. This is a pragmatic but non-capitulationist line: India sees the United States as a market and a technological and defense partner, but seeks to prevent the relationship from becoming one of dependency. Harsh Pant, a researcher at the Observer Research Foundation, describes the new phase as a combination of strategic rapprochement and anxiety over American “transactionalism”—that is, the White House’s tendency to turn every form of interdependence into an object of bargaining—in his paper on a new lexicon for Indian-American relations.

The war involving Iran makes this anxiety even more concrete. For India, this is not only geopolitics, but also the price of oil, the security of maritime routes and the future of the port of Chabahar, which it needs as an alternative route to Afghanistan and Central Asia. A temporary US authorization allowing Iranian oil sales until August 21 created an opportunity for Indian refineries, but Indian Express notes that they are in no hurry to resume purchases: the danger of another policy reversal in Washington is too great. From the Indian perspective, America creates a shortage and then offers a temporary exemption from the rules it created itself.

China’s reaction to the same picture is much harsher and more ideological. Beijing interprets American tariffs and sanctions threats not as a dispute over “fair trade,” but as an attempt to preserve the United States’ ability to unilaterally decide whom other countries are allowed to trade with. Chinese Foreign Ministry spokesman Lin Jian said that China “opposes all forms of unilateral tariff measures,” and that tariff and trade wars serve the interests of no party, Pengpai reported. This formula has both a defensive meaning—the protection of Chinese exports—and an offensive one: Beijing seeks to present itself as the party favoring more stable and universal trade rules.

The US attempt to tie relations with China to purchases of Russian and Iranian oil is especially irritating. Chinese diplomats insist that sanctions without a UN Security Council mandate are illegal; this position was reported by Global Times. But the local debate is not limited to diplomatic statements. Chinese commentators use American tariff policy as evidence that the global economy cannot safely depend on a single jurisdiction. In a Global Times editorial about a new escalation in the US-Iran conflict, the war is described as a threat capable of dragging the world into prolonged “attrition”: a strike on the Strait of Hormuz would mean higher energy prices, disrupted supply chains and weaker global growth.

This reveals an interesting contrast with India. New Delhi is seeking a comparative advantage over China within the American tariff system—even if that advantage is temporary. China, by contrast, is trying to show that the system itself is a symptom of the decline of the old model of globalization. India wants a better place within the American system; China is publicly challenging the United States’ right to serve as that system’s architect. Yet both countries arrive at the same practical conclusion: markets, energy routes and financial risks must be diversified.

Ukraine views the United States through a different, far more tragic lens. For Kyiv, the American operation against Iran is not a distant Middle Eastern story, but competition for ammunition, air defense, diplomatic attention and the White House’s political will. Volodymyr Zelensky put it bluntly: “Iran is the number one issue for the United States of America, and then comes Ukraine,” Ukrainska Pravda reported. In the Ukrainian perception, this is not merely resentment at being relegated to second place, but a lesson that security cannot be built solely around waiting for an American decision.

At the same time, Kyiv is trying to turn the war in the Middle East into an argument for a closer alliance with Washington. Zelensky said that Russia was conducting satellite surveillance of US military facilities in Persian Gulf countries and passing the materials to Iran; the Ukrainian side sees this as confirmation of a single military-technological network involving Russia, Iran and North Korea. Ukrainska Pravda reported on this in detail. Ukraine’s message to the United States is as follows: the war in Ukraine is not a European sideshow; it is already connected to the security of American bases, shipping and the confrontation with Iran.

This is also why Kyiv is placing particular emphasis on drones. Ukraine is presenting itself not only as a recipient of aid, but also as a provider of combat experience and technology. In an LB.ua analysis, Ukrainian expertise in unmanned systems is described as a resource capable of making the country a “contributor to European security,” rather than a permanent recipient. This is perhaps the most substantive and unexpected local response to American unpredictability: if Washington’s guarantee becomes conditional, Ukraine wants to become too valuable to be pushed into the background.

Thus, the overall picture cannot be reduced to the familiar formula of “declining American influence.” The United States remains powerful enough to reshape India’s trade flows, determine the risks facing China’s energy sector and influence the course of Ukraine’s war against Russia. But it is precisely the scale of this power that makes its instability the central international issue. India is learning to bargain with America without illusions; China is countering it with the language of sovereignty and multilateral norms; and Ukraine is seeking to prove that its war is inseparable from American interests. This is the new international view of Washington: not a rejection of America, but preparation for a world in which even an alliance with it is no longer considered sufficient insurance.

❮ ❯

America as a Source of Risk, Not Order: Views in Germany, Saudi Arabia and Russia

By mid-August 2026, perceptions of the United States in Germany, Saudi Arabia and Russia have come to revolve around the same troubling formula: Washington still possesses enormous military, financial and trade power, but is increasingly unable to turn that power into a stable order. The main subjects of local debate are the US war with Iran and the fate of the Strait of Hormuz, new American tariffs, and the White House’s readiness to change the terms of deals almost in real time. Yet the conclusions drawn in the three countries differ. In Germany, there are fears that American unpredictability is undermining the economic rules on which Europe’s export model rests. In Saudi Arabia, the United States is assessed primarily through the security of oil infrastructure and maritime routes. In Russia, the American approach is interpreted as an attempt to force rivals into agreements through the use of power—a strategy capable of creating crises faster than it can resolve them.

The Iranian crisis is attracting the sharpest discussion. In an analysis published on July 19, Germany’s Tagesschau described the situation in highly practical terms: daily US strikes on Iranian targets had already been accompanied by retaliatory attacks against Persian Gulf states. For German audiences, this is not a distant regional war but a threat to energy supplies, inflation and industrial recovery. German markets had already reacted to a combination of high oil prices, the near-halt of tanker traffic through the Strait of Hormuz, and Houthi attacks on Saudi tankers in the Red Sea; a Tagesschau market report explicitly called this a double blow to two key maritime routes of global trade. (tagesschau.de)

The Saudi perspective is considerably less abstract. For Riyadh, the issue is not who will make the loudest claim of victory over Tehran, but who will pay for the conflict to continue. Arab economic discussions stress that Gulf states need not the highest possible oil price, but a combination of an acceptable price and secure export routes: even expensive crude cannot offset the risks if Hormuz is closed and the Red Sea also becomes dangerous. In an Al Jazeera Arabic analysis, this logic was expressed particularly clearly: Saudi Arabia and the UAE’s partially available alternative pipeline routes reduce their vulnerability, but do not eliminate it. (aljazeera.net)

This also explains an important feature of the Saudi reaction to the American campaign: it is neither anti-American nor unconditionally supportive of the United States. Washington remains the kingdom’s main external military partner, but its actions are judged by whether the American presence is turning the allies themselves into targets. A CNN Arabic report on Gulf states’ concerns noted that the region fears the US-Iranian confrontation could turn into a wider war, including through the Yemen theater. In a commentary on the US-Iran agreement, Firas Maksad, Eurasia Group’s managing director for the Middle East, articulated the concern of the regional elite: the perception of America as a reliable strategic ally has become the subject of serious doubt. (arabic.cnn.com)

In Russia, the same conflict is read differently—not as a test of US reliability as an ally, but as evidence of the limits of American coercion. Russian commentators repeatedly return to the contradiction between Washington’s military superiority and its inability to control Hormuz for long without a highly risky ground escalation. In a RIA Novosti commentary, expert Farhad Ibrahimov characterized the US strikes as an attempt to push Tehran more quickly toward a deal on American terms, but questioned the prospects for a lasting agreement. Another Russian analysis, published by RIA Novosti Crimea, gave this model a blunt name: “strategy—chaos.” (ria.ru)

This is not merely a propagandistic tone. Russia’s expert community sees Iran’s ability to threaten shipping as an example of asymmetric warfare: the weaker side does not need to defeat the United States in a direct confrontation; it is enough to raise the cost of American actions for the global economy and Washington’s allies. In an assessment cited by RIA Novosti, closing the Strait of Hormuz was described not as an act of desperation but as a prepared tool for raising the stakes. This interpretation is also convenient for Moscow because it connects the Persian Gulf crisis with a broader idea: sanctions, naval blockades and attacks on infrastructure are increasingly becoming not instruments of settlement but an independent form of economic warfare. (ria.ru)

The second common theme is tariffs. Here, Germany feels the American shift more painfully than the others. New US duties on dozens of trading partners, including the EU, have once again made exports to America politically dependent on decisions made by the White House. Deutsche Welle reported on July 24 that rates of 10% and 12.5% had been imposed on various groups of partners, while German journalists linked this uncertainty to existing energy and production risks. (amp.dw.com)

At the same time, neither Berlin nor German business has adopted a single response of “breaking with America.” Instead, pragmatism is growing: shifting some production to the United States, passing tariffs on to American buyers, seeking new markets and pursuing European trade agreements. In a Tagesschau report on a year of American tariffs, German companies acknowledged that some costs had been passed on to customers in the United States, but identified the constant changing of rules as the central problem. Roland Rohde of Germany Trade & Invest believes that the competitiveness of German manufacturers has “hardly suffered” so far, but for small and medium-sized businesses, simply having to monitor new tariff regimes every day is becoming a cost in itself. (tagesschau.de)

Saudi Arabia views the tariff issue more calmly, but there too it has ceased to be secondary. Calculations by Al-Eqtisadiah’s financial division, published by Arab News, estimated possible additional tariff costs for Saudi exports to the United States at nearly $600 million. For the kingdom, this is not an existential threat, but it is a significant signal: even a partnership with Washington no longer guarantees immunity from American economic pressure. (arabnews.com)

The result is an unusual common picture. Germany, Saudi Arabia and Russia disagree on nearly every fundamental issue, from Ukraine to Iran and sanctions. But in assessing the American style, they are increasingly converging: the United States is now perceived less as an architect of predictable rules than as a state that negotiates, threatens, imposes tariffs, uses force and then offers a deal—all at once. Germany is responding by diversifying its markets and production. Saudi Arabia is trying not to choose between the United States and regional diplomacy. Russia is betting that America’s policy of pressure will inevitably create new cracks in the Western system. The most unexpected common conclusion is that the dispute is no longer about whether America is powerful. In Berlin, Riyadh and Moscow, the question increasingly being asked is different: can America still be a force with which long-term plans can be built?

❮ ❯

America as a Source of Risk: Why Seoul, Delhi and Paris Are Increasingly Discussing the Cost...

In South Korea, India and France, the American agenda this summer is no longer perceived as a collection of isolated news reports from Washington. Local commentary is coalescing into a broader picture: under Donald Trump, the United States remains an indispensable partner, while simultaneously becoming a source of trade, military and political uncertainty. Three topics are discussed particularly often: the use of tariffs as a tool of pressure, the consequences of America’s war with Iran, and concerns about the state of American democracy itself. What unites these reactions is not anti-Americanism as such, but doubts about the predictability of a country on which too much depends.

The most practical grievance is the transformation of access to the American market into a lever of political coercion. In Seoul, discussion has focused on new U.S. tariffs under Section 301 of the Trade Act. In July, the Korean government warned that new measures could follow the end of the temporary global tariff, while a rate of 12.5% was being considered for Korean goods. In Korean business circles, this is seen not simply as another tariff adjustment, but as a signal that trade rules may change in line with the White House’s domestic political logic. An overview by KPMG Korea emphasizes the unusual nature of the mechanism itself: Washington used Section 301 for the first time to pressure countries over the regulation of imports produced using forced labor. For Seoul, this means that export risks now depend not only on prices, quality and bilateral negotiations, but also on which social or legal standard the United States next decides to turn into a trade criterion. (seoul.co.kr)

In India, the dispute sounds even sharper because it has compounded accumulated disappointment. In a column for The Indian Express, Indian researcher Vivek Mishra writes that bilateral relations are simultaneously facing pressure from tariffs, migration policy, purchases of Russian oil, and technological competition surrounding AI. The tone itself is significant: this is not about a temporary “disagreement between allies,” but about the possibility that the existing mechanisms for managing the relationship may prove inadequate. Indian public debate increasingly views partnership with the United States as necessary to contain China, but not reliable enough to serve as the foundation of an economic strategy without the safety net of ties with Europe, Russia, the Middle East and the countries of the Global South. (indianexpress.com)

The French reaction is less tied to a specific tariff rate, but the logic is similar: Paris sees tariff policy as part of a broader American shift from coordination among allies toward transactions in which power outweighs shared rules. The French newspaper Le Monde describes the new U.S. foreign-policy doctrine as a world in which national interest, economic gain and bilateral pressure displace international law and established alliances. For a French audience, this is not an abstraction: such an approach strengthens Emmanuel Macron’s argument for European strategic autonomy—the ability of Europe to defend itself, produce critical technologies and conduct trade policy without constantly looking to Washington for guidance. (lemonde.fr)

The second common concern is the U.S. war with Iran and the instability surrounding the Strait of Hormuz. Here, it is particularly clear how differently countries measure the cost of American military power. For South Korea, this is primarily a question of energy, freight, insurance and industrial resilience. A study by the Korea Institute for Industrial Economics and Trade urges readers to view transport, insurance and raw-material costs not as a short-term military disruption, but as permanent “structural security costs.” In other words, from the Korean perspective, an American operation in the Middle East immediately becomes a problem of production costs for Korean factories and the resilience of the export model. (kiet.re.kr)

Indian analysts draw a somewhat different conclusion from the same crisis. A paper by the Observer Research Foundation says that Hormuz could become a symbol of the “Trump 2.0” era: strategic cooperation between India and the United States remains indispensable, but increasingly encounters diverging regional interests and views on the acceptable use of force. For Delhi, Iran is not only an adversary of America, but also an important regional neighbor, an energy factor and a route into Eurasia. India therefore cannot accept the American framework—one in which Tehran is exclusively an object of isolation—without incurring losses. This is a rare case in which India’s tradition of multi-alignment is not merely a diplomatic habit, but a way to reduce the risks generated by an ally’s policies. (orfonline.org)

In France, the Iran issue reinforces an old fear of American escalation, the consequences of which are borne primarily by Europe and regions neighboring the Middle East. French commentators note not only the conflict itself, but also the lack of a clear strategy for ending it. In Le Monde, Trump’s Iran policy is described as a combination of a desire for a show of force and growing involvement in a protracted conflict. And following the resumption of the U.S. naval blockade, according to South Korean news agency Yonhap, the dispute over control of Hormuz has once again acquired practical significance for international shipping. In Paris, this strengthens the belief that Europe must have its own diplomatic line—not because it can ignore the United States, but because it should not automatically share the consequences of every American military adventure. (lemonde.fr)

The third issue—the state of American institutions—is particularly prominent in France, but also resonates in Asia. The French press views preparations for the U.S. midterm elections not as an ordinary partisan dispute, but as a test of the American system’s ability to constrain the president. In an investigation by Le Monde, Michael Waldman, president of the Brennan Center for Justice, is quoted as saying that Trump’s persistence on voting issues is intended not only to revisit the 2020 election, but also to spread fear, doubt and confusion among voters. For the French, accustomed to viewing the United States as the world’s oldest modern democracy and an ideological ally, this issue has an almost symbolic significance: America no longer appears to be an unquestioned model to invoke in debates over liberal institutions. (lemonde.fr)

South Korean observers view the same problem through the lens of the reliability of American commitments. The National Strategic Portal of the Parliament of the Republic of Korea directly links possible changes after the U.S. elections to the future of agreements between Seoul and Washington on trade, investment and military security. In other words, America’s domestic conflicts become a foreign-policy risk for Korea: if agreements depend on the loyalty of a particular administration and its electoral interests, then even a strong alliance ceases to be fully predictable. (nsp.nanet.go.kr)

India’s response is less moralizing, but no less wary. According to data presented by Hindustan Times, Indian confidence in Trump has fallen sharply, while negative views of the United States have reached their highest level in a quarter-century. The reasons cited are quite specific: global tariffs, strict migration policy, and Washington’s actions in conflicts involving Iran and Venezuela. For India, this matters not because public opinion automatically determines Narendra Modi’s policy, but because the emotional foundation of the old story about a “natural alliance between two democracies” is disappearing. In its place comes a cooler calculation: cooperation with America is necessary, but trusting it unconditionally is dangerous. (hindustantimes.com)

The most unexpected common feature among the three countries is that none of them is calling for a break with the United States. Seoul cannot replace the American security umbrella; Delhi has no interest in weakening the American presence in the Indo-Pacific; and Paris is not abandoning the transatlantic relationship. Yet everywhere, demand is growing for diversification—of markets, energy suppliers, defense capabilities and diplomatic channels. France frames this as European sovereignty, India as strategic autonomy, and South Korea as economic security and reduced dependence on vulnerable routes.

A new international response to the United States is thus taking shape: America remains too powerful to ignore, but is no longer predictable enough to rely on without contingency plans of one’s own.

❮ ❯

Fragmented Reaction to U.S. Policy

Reactions to Washington’s decisions in foreign publications remain limited and fragmented. German reports criticize the American foreign-policy establishment for attempting to evade responsibility for wars, while also following the U.S. primaries and import flows. A South Korean analysis examines a decision associated with Donald Trump that affects Chinese drones. Overall, most of the available references are general or irrelevant and do not reflect a full-fledged international reaction. This material is based on publications by Merkur.de (Germany) and YouTube (South Korea).

American Wars and the Cost of Strategic Miscalculations

The German portal Merkur published a translation of a column by Harvard University professor Stephen M. Walt, originally published in Foreign Policy. It is not the German outlet’s editorial position or a news report, but an author’s assessment of American foreign policy. Nevertheless, its publication on a major German platform makes the arguments presented relevant to a German audience, which has traditionally viewed military interventions and regime change with caution.

Walt’s central argument is that the United States fails in wars not because it lacks resources, weapons, or the courage of its service members. In his view, the problem lies in the choice of conflicts and the setting of excessive political goals. Washington often enters “wars of choice,” attempting to reshape other societies according to its own ideas, while U.S. opponents fight for independence, survival, or control over their own country. Given this disparity in motivation, the weaker side can prevail if it manages to outlast the more powerful adversary.

The author cites the Korean and Vietnam Wars, the 2003 invasion of Iraq, and the many-year war in Afghanistan as examples of such strategic miscalculations. Iraq occupies a particularly important place in his argument: Walt believes that overthrowing Saddam Hussein was not connected to vital U.S. interests, while the occupation of the country generated resistance, intensified instability, and created regional consequences that had to be dealt with for many years.

The 1991 Gulf War serves as a contrast. The administration of George H. W. Bush set a limited and clear objective: liberating Kuwait after Iraq’s invasion. The U.S. authorities then rejected the capture of Baghdad and regime change, avoiding turning the operation into an attempt to remake Iraq. In Walt’s view, it was precisely this proportionality between military objectives and political capabilities that enabled the campaign to avoid many of the mistakes that followed.

For Germany, this debate is particularly sensitive. Berlin remains a key U.S. ally within NATO and relies on American security guarantees. At the same time, German political culture, shaped after World War II, calls for heightened caution regarding overseas military operations, especially when they involve regime change, prolonged occupation, or the absence of a clear international legal mandate.

The 2003 Iraq crisis occupies a prominent place in this collective memory. Chancellor Gerhard Schröder’s government opposed the U.S. invasion, and in Germany the episode is often viewed as an example of justified skepticism toward Washington’s use of force. The publication in Merkur indirectly returns to the question of how an ally’s reliability should be measured—not only by the scale of its military power, but also by its ability to formulate limited, realistic, and achievable goals.

The sharpest section of the column concerns the responsibility of the American foreign-policy elite. Walt quotes neoconservative intellectual Robert Kagan, one of the prominent supporters of the Iraq War. Asked whether the war had been a mistake, Kagan replied: “I’m not sure what good it does to admit that it was a mistake. It won’t bring anybody back to life.” For Walt, this position demonstrates the unwillingness of influential circles in the United States to acknowledge the consequences of their own decisions and learn from them.

In the author’s assessment, the absence of political and intellectual accountability creates a risk that past failures will be repeated. In particular, he links this problem to the current Donald Trump administration’s policy toward Iran. At the same time, assessments of a possible conflict with Iran and criticism of Trump’s policy represent the columnist’s own position, rather than facts established by Merkur’s editors.

For Europe and Germany, Walt’s arguments raise the practical question of the degree of strategic autonomy they should pursue. If the United States spends resources on wars with unclear or excessively ambitious objectives, this may weaken its ability to focus on NATO responsibilities, European security, and long-term competition with China. Consequently, as the article’s logic suggests, allied solidarity should not rule out an independent assessment of risks and national interests by European states.

The column does not claim to offer a neutral presentation of all views on American wars. It is a reasoned critique of a foreign-policy approach in which military superiority is taken to mean an ability to achieve any political outcome. Walt’s main conclusion is that power without limited objectives, an adequate strategy, and a willingness to accept responsibility for mistakes ultimately leads not to stronger influence, but to costly defeats.

U.S. Imposes Drone Tariffs While Preserving Benefits for Allies

U.S. President Donald Trump signed a proclamation imposing tariffs of up to 100% on imported drones and their components. The measure is due to take effect in 21 days and is intended to reduce the United States’ dependence on Chinese production chains, develop domestic drone manufacturing, and strengthen the American position in this technological sector.

As noted by South Korean public broadcaster KBS, South Korea has been included in a separate group of partners alongside Japan and the countries of the European Union. They will face a lower, though still significant, maximum tariff of up to 15%. Washington is therefore recognizing Seoul as a reliable ally and potential participant in “friend-shored” defense-technology supply chains, but is not exempting South Korean companies from protectionist restrictions.

For Chinese manufacturers, the new rates could effectively prove prohibitive. This gives South Korean companies an opportunity to capture part of the U.S. market previously occupied by Chinese suppliers of drones, electronics, batteries, cameras, sensors, and other critical components. At the same time, the 15% tariff raises the cost of Korean products in the United States and could reduce their competitiveness compared with American-made goods.

The Korean view of Trump’s decision highlights the country’s ambiguous position. On the one hand, inclusion in the preferential tariff category confirms Seoul’s political and technological closeness to Washington. South Korea has an opportunity to deepen cooperation with the United States in defense manufacturing and unmanned systems, particularly against the backdrop of the American administration’s drive to push China out of strategic supply chains.

On the other hand, the new rules demonstrate the limits of the advantages enjoyed by allies. Even the United States’ closest partners receive no complete immunity from trade barriers if Washington believes it is necessary to relocate critical production to American territory. For South Korea’s export-oriented economy, this means dependence not only on demand and product quality, but also on the political decisions of the largest markets.

In this situation, Seoul will need to use its “friendly country” status to expand joint projects, localize some production processes in the United States, and secure a position in Western supply chains. However, it will also be important for South Korean authorities and businesses to ensure that preferential rates do not become a permanent obstacle to exports. The new tariff policy demonstrates the hierarchy of allies in America’s strategy: South Korea is far removed from China in terms of the level of trade restrictions, but it is still forced to pay a price for the U.S. drive toward technological autonomy.

❮ ❯

America as a Source of Risk: Why Australia, Japan and Saudi Arabia Are Increasingly...

In Australia, Japan and Saudi Arabia, discussions about America today revolve around the same question: can the superpower on which these countries depend to varying degrees for security, trade and energy remain a predictable partner? The triggers include the protracted US-Iranian confrontation, a new wave of tariff pressure from Donald Trump’s administration, and Washington’s increasingly evident willingness to make decisions without prior consultation with its allies. Yet the local responses differ considerably. Australia is experiencing a crisis of confidence in its political ally; Japan measures American inconsistency in the cost of oil and the vulnerability of maritime routes; while Saudi Arabia seeks to turn its geographical position and diplomatic ties into tools for de-escalation.

The most acute issue is the impact of US policy toward Iran and the security of the Strait of Hormuz. For Saudi Arabia, this is not an abstract debate about the international order, but a question of the region’s physical security, oil infrastructure and the possibility of preventing another major war on its doorstep. Riyadh publicly welcomed the US-Iranian agreement of June 15, 2026, on ending military operations and beginning negotiations, stressing the need to restore freedom and security of navigation in the Strait of Hormuz to the conditions that existed before February 28. In a statement by the Saudi Foreign Ministry the kingdom placed particular emphasis on the principle of noninterference in the internal affairs of states. This is an important formulation: it shows that the Saudi position is not limited to supporting one side, but calls on the United States to abandon attempts to reshape the regional order by force. (mofa.gov.sa)

Saudi analysis is even more cautious than the official diplomacy. In a column for Asharq Al-Awsat, the US-Iranian memorandum is described as a continuation of “political tug-of-war,” rather than a peaceful settlement: too much—Iran’s nuclear program, sanctions, missiles, regional proxy groups and the status of the strait—remains outside clearly enforceable commitments. (aawsat.com) This reflects a distinctly Middle Eastern view of the United States: American military power is acknowledged as a reality, but is not seen as an adequate substitute for a security architecture in which the interests of the Gulf states are not a secondary outcome, but a starting condition.

In Japan, the same war is viewed primarily through the country’s dependence on energy imports and maritime trade. Tokyo cannot afford to regard Hormuz merely as a geopolitical symbol: it is one of the vital routes for oil supplies. Japan’s Foreign Ministry reported that, following the agreement between the United States and Iran, it was seeking the earliest possible safe passage for the 37 Japan-linked vessels remaining in the Persian Gulf; one ship passed through the strait on June 19. (mofa.go.jp) Even after that, Japanese experts do not consider the risk resolved. A researcher at the Japan Institute of International Affairs notes in a strategic commentary that although Washington seeks to distance itself from the Middle East, it inevitably returns there as the main coordinator of military deterrence, sanctions, finance and maritime security. For precisely that reason, however, Tokyo should pursue more active multilateral diplomacy and not rely on a vague US-Iranian compromise. (jiia.or.jp)

It is telling that Japan’s response is almost entirely devoid of the moral fervor typical of Western discussions of war. Its language is that of insurance premiums, supply schedules, the price of a barrel and the risk of stagflation. Economist Nobuhiko Kiuchi of NRI warned in an analysis for the Nomura Research Institute that another escalation around the strait, retaliatory US strikes and talk of charging vessels for passage would once again expose Japan to a combination of expensive energy, falling markets and a weaker yen. (nri.com) From Japan’s perspective, the main criticism of the United States is not that America acts too decisively or not decisively enough, but that shifting signals from Washington have themselves become a source of economic destabilization.

Australians formulate the problem more directly and politically. Canberra remains one of Washington’s closest allies, but local media are showing a shift from the customary rhetoric of a “special relationship” toward an examination of the limits of loyalty. In an interview with ABC, Prime Minister Anthony Albanese said: “The United States now plays a different role in the world.” He linked this not only to protectionism, but also to the fact that the United States had begun its war with Iran without consulting its allies. (abc.net.au) For Australia, which has built its defense planning around the American umbrella for decades, this is almost a programmatic admission: the alliance remains, but automatic political trust is gone.

Australian commentators are particularly troubled by the gap between American expectations of military solidarity and America’s willingness to ignore its partners’ interests. In an ABC column, the question is posed in stark terms: Canberra’s refusal to immediately send naval forces to the Iranian conflict may have revealed Australia’s “red line” in its relations with Trump. (abc.net.au) This is an unusual formulation for the country. Australia is not abandoning its alliance with the United States or proposing neutrality; it is trying to separate the defense treaty from unconditional participation in every operation the White House deems necessary.

The second common thread is tariffs. Here Australia is feeling the impact directly. After the previous tariff arrangement was abolished, the US tariff on Australian exports was set at 12.5%. In an ABC analysis, Trade Minister Don Farrell called the decision “completely unjustified,” while winemaker Jeffrey Grosset described its consequences without diplomatic euphemisms: US isolationism will hurt American consumers, but it will hurt Australian producers even more, as they lose their presence and brand recognition in the largest market. (abc.net.au) Australia’s reaction is therefore less anti-American than anti-chaos: businesses find it difficult to withstand not merely a high tariff, but constantly changing rationales, rates and deadlines.

In Japan, US tariff policy is perceived as a less local but more systemic challenge. The Japanese government has already based its response on the principle of “not tariffs, but investment,” seeking a review of US measures. Yet official Japanese economic reviews acknowledge that US trade policy has become a shifting structure of exemptions, investigations and sectoral restrictions. (www5.cao.go.jp) For Japan’s export economy, this means that even a compromise with Washington offers no guarantee of stability: the rules can be rewritten by a new executive order or a new legal rationale. Saudi business media view the same process from the perspective of global markets: in an Argaam analysis, Trump’s new tariff strategy is described as an attempt to build a more durable legal “wall of tariffs” after the courts rejected the previous framework—at the cost of additional inflationary pressure and uncertainty for the global economy. (argaam.com)

This is where the three countries’ most unexpected similarity emerges. Australia, Japan and Saudi Arabia have not adopted a unified anti-American position. Each still needs the United States: Australia as a key military ally, Japan as a guarantor of deterrence in East Asia, and Saudi Arabia as a crucial outside player in Gulf security and global energy finance. But in all three countries, there is a growing demand not for “more America,” but for an America that explains its intentions in advance, respects its partners’ interests and can turn military pressure into lasting agreements. For Washington’s allies and partners, the problem with Trump today is not only his toughness. Much more important is that this toughness has become unpredictable—and the cost of that unpredictability is now measured not only in diplomatic inconvenience, but in oil, inflation, ships in the Strait of Hormuz, export contracts and confidence in the American alliance system itself.

❮ ❯

America as a Source of Risk, Not Support: Views from China, Turkey and Israel

Discussions of the United States in China, Turkey and Israel in recent weeks have been dominated not by any single storyline, but by a common question: Can America simultaneously be a military superpower, a guarantor of its allies and a predictable economic partner? The immediate trigger has primarily been the ongoing U.S.-Iranian confrontation over the Strait of Hormuz, but it has quickly been joined by trade and technology restrictions targeting China and Israeli concerns about how far Washington is prepared to go to ensure the security of its closest regional ally. In all three countries, the United States is still seen as the decisive power, but increasingly less as a power whose promises automatically translate into a long-term strategy.

The most prominent common theme is U.S. policy toward Iran. Chinese commentators describe it as demonstrating not so much the limits of American strength as the limits of American coercion. In a Global Times analysis, Li Haidong, a professor at the University of International Relations, interprets the exchange of blows between the United States and Iran not as a path to a major war, but as a struggle for the initiative in the Strait of Hormuz. His reasoning is revealing: Tehran is seeking to consolidate its own control over the strategic waterway, while Washington is using limited military action to restore freedom of navigation and deterrence. The Chinese perspective here is fundamentally pragmatic: the longer the parties use force to improve their negotiating positions, the more fragile both shipping and the global energy market become. (globaltimes.cn)

In Beijing, this is also viewed through a broader geopolitical lens. Chinese experts stress that a prolonged conflict in the Persian Gulf benefits none of the participants, and that strikes and retaliatory actions serve as a means of applying pressure ahead of negotiations. In a commentary on tensions in the Middle East, Tian Wenlin, a professor at Renmin University, notes that judging by the course of events, both sides are using military pressure specifically to force the other into dialogue. Behind this lies an important Chinese idea: the United States can inflict serious damage, but the use of force alone cannot create a stable political order. (globaltimes.cn)

The Turkish view is close to the Chinese assessment of the danger of escalation, but is noticeably more practical. For Ankara, Hormuz is not an abstract test of American leadership, but a potential blow to energy prices, inflation, the balance of payments and regional trade. In an analysis by Anadolu Agency, Bilgehan Alagöz, an academic, calls the new phase in U.S.-Iranian relations “controlled escalation.” This is an accurate formulation of Turkey’s concern: the parties do not want an all-out war, but each may believe that a small increase in the stakes will strengthen its position. For Turkey, such a game is particularly dangerous because the “controllability” of great powers in practice means an uncontrollable rise in costs for neighboring economies. (aa.com.tr)

The Israeli debate is far more emotional, since the dispute is no longer only about oil and sea routes, but also about trust in the United States as a strategic ally. Israeli commentators interpret American pauses in its strikes, negotiating maneuvers and willingness to discuss a compromise with Iran as a signal that Washington wants to end the crisis on terms primarily dictated by its domestic politics, economic concerns and desire to avoid a major war. In a Ynet commentary, Itamar Eichner writes that Donald Trump is effectively negotiating with Tehran “with the help of bombs”: the targeted strikes are intended to accelerate a deal without turning into a full-scale campaign. The author links this both to the approaching U.S. midterm elections and to the White House’s sensitivity to rising oil prices. (ynet.co.il)

This is where the main divergence among the three countries emerges. China sees the American approach as a symptom of an overstretched global leader; Turkey sees it as a source of direct economic and regional risks; Israel sees it as a possible threat to its own freedom of action. In an assessment by Israel’s Institute for National Security Studies, a painful idea for Jerusalem is emphasized: Trump sought to end the war, reopen Hormuz and reduce pressure on the global economy, while Israel hoped to turn its military successes into a lasting shift in the balance of power against Iran and Hezbollah. In the Israeli interpretation, the problem is not the United States’ desire for diplomacy itself, but that an agreement could leave Iran with key levers of influence while leaving Israel with less room for independent action. (inss.org.il)

This leads to a second major theme: America is increasingly judged not by its stated principles, but by its ability to maintain a consistent course. In Israel, this concern has turned into almost open criticism of excessive dependence on Washington. A Ynet column says that Benjamin Netanyahu’s wager on Trump turned out to resemble a loss at roulette: the alliance with the United States remains, but its political cost has risen and its predictability has declined. The author draws a parallel with other American allies and partners who, in his view, have already encountered Washington’s ability to rapidly revise its priorities. (ynet.co.il)

For China, the same unpredictability is manifested primarily in technology and trade. New U.S. restrictions on imports of Chinese advanced robots and power inverters, along with the expansion of the list of Chinese research institutions Washington regards as potential threats to technological security, are described in the Chinese press as the politicization of scientific and industrial cooperation. In a Global Times article, these measures are presented not as ordinary market protection, but as another step toward turning technology into an instrument of geopolitical pressure. Notably, the Chinese response is not limited to indignation: it conveys confidence that the restrictions’ short-term impact will be limited, and that the United States is merely accelerating China’s focus on its own supply chains, open technology ecosystems and import substitution. (globaltimes.cn)

This is perhaps the most unexpected common conclusion emerging from local debates. China, Turkey and Israel do not consider America weak. On the contrary, its military, financial and technological weight is acknowledged as decisive. But that is precisely why the gap between the scale of American power and the limited endurance of its policy is perceived so sharply. Chinese analysts see that strength does not guarantee control over its consequences; Turkish analysts see that a localized U.S. confrontation can be exported as inflation and instability elsewhere; Israeli analysts see that even exceptional proximity to Washington does not eliminate differences in national interests.

As a result, the image of the United States in these three societies is changing not from “hegemon” to “second-rate power,” but from “guarantor of order” to “a powerful yet situational player.” For Beijing, this is an argument for multipolarity and technological autonomy. For Ankara, it is a reason to preserve maneuverability and avoid tying economic security to the decisions of external players. For Israel, it is a painful reminder that the alliance with America remains vital, but can no longer substitute for its own strategy.

❮ ❯

America as a Source of “Managed Uncertainty”: France, Japan and China Read the New Tariff...

In recent days, Paris, Tokyo and Beijing have been discussing the United States less as an individual ally, competitor or adversary than as a country that has turned unpredictability into a policy tool. The central issue in these discussions is American tariffs: after the US Supreme Court restricted the previous legal framework for broad-based tariffs, Washington did not abandon protectionism but began seeking new legal mechanisms to preserve it. For France, this is primarily a question of European economic autonomy; for Japan, a risk to its export model and supply chains; for China, evidence that the United States is replacing universal trade rules with unilateral pressure. Yet in all three countries, a broader conclusion is becoming increasingly apparent: the problem lies not only in the size of the tariff, but in the fact that US policy is becoming difficult to predict even when its formal parameters are known in advance.

The French response is marked especially by irritation at the fact that US tariff policy simultaneously appears to be a commercial measure and a form of political coercion. France’s customs administration explicitly notes that, following the court ruling in the United States, the previous tariffs were abolished, but a significant share of sectoral restrictions—on automobiles, steel, aluminum, copper and timber—remained in place, while new measures continue to reshape the conditions for access to the US market. In the French customs service’s explanation, this is presented in bureaucratic language, but the political meaning is clear: European companies have to operate in an environment where trade rules change faster than they can revise their investment plans.

French economists view the situation even more harshly. In its April forecast, OFCE describes American protectionism not as a bilateral dispute between Washington and Beijing, but as a blow to Europe, caught “between” restrictions on exports to the United States and intensifying Chinese competition. France’s main concern is the trade-diversion effect: if Chinese goods lose access to the US market, some of those flows will inevitably seek buyers in the EU. According to OFCE, the experience of the first trade war shows that a substantial share of Chinese exports displaced from the United States can be redirected to Europe. This is why Trump’s tariffs are perceived paradoxically in Paris: they simultaneously complicate French exports to America and increase competitive pressure on French producers at home.

This logic is also changing France’s attitude toward the idea of a “deal” with Washington. The question is no longer simply how advantageous it would be to agree on a rate of 10, 12.5 or 15 percent. Much more important is whether an agreement can be considered durable if the US administration is capable of replacing one legal instrument with another. The Banque de France previously calculated how sharply the average tariff burden on imports from France increased after the United States returned to large-scale protectionism. Today, the French debate has shifted from tariff arithmetic to the question of strategic dependence: how can industrial and trade policy be built if access to the largest external market becomes the subject of constant political bargaining?

In Japan, the same US policy is prompting less publicly confrontational but more practical concern. Japan’s economy is too deeply integrated into both the American market and Asian production chains to view the trade war as a distant dispute between superpowers. In the White Paper of Japan’s Ministry of Economy, Trade and Industry, US decisions are linked to the need to strengthen Japan’s industrial and technological base: tariffs, export controls and competition for critical materials are becoming parts of a single economic-security policy.

The Japanese perspective differs from the French one in its emphasis on risk management rather than political emancipation from the United States. Tokyo has no doubt that its alliance with Washington remains the foundation of national security. But the question is increasingly being raised of whether the military alliance can be separated from trade coercion. In an analysis by the Marubeni Research Institute, the “America First” policy is viewed as a single package: military intervention, tariffs, pressure on partners and efforts to bring production back to the United States. For Japanese business, this means that even a formally friendly country can simultaneously be a source of tariff shocks, demands to localize production and political risks to supplies moving through the Middle East and Asia.

This explains Japan’s characteristic response: not rhetorical confrontation with Washington, but an accelerated search for safeguards. These include diversifying markets, developing production facilities in North America, stockpiling critical components and closer coordination with Europe and Southeast Asian countries. Japan sees American tariffs not as the temporary eccentricity of a single president, but as a new normal in which US trade policy is subordinated to a domestic political demand for reindustrialization. Even when tariffs are reduced or postponed, the mere risk of their return is already changing companies’ decisions.

China’s response is the most ideological, but it is not limited to propagandistic condemnation of America. Chinese official and expert texts consistently advance the argument that the United States is not correcting trade imbalances, but creating a system in which the law is adapted to political objectives. In an analysis published by Xinhua on July 24, the new wave of US tariffs was described as “unending”: when one legal avenue is blocked, Washington switches from the law on emergency economic powers to provisions of the 1974 Trade Act. The article’s formula is exceptionally clear: “the pretext changes, but the logic of protectionism does not.”

Chinese discussions also contain a more pragmatic layer. In a column for Caixin, economist Wei Shangjin noted that the US Supreme Court’s decision could change the legal foundation of the tariffs, but would not necessarily reduce the overall level of trade barriers: the US administration could restore them by other means. This is an important observation because it coincides with the French and Japanese conclusions. In Beijing, the US tariff policy is viewed not as a chaotic series of orders, but as a durable, bipartisan shift by the United States toward economic nationalism—one that will outlast individual court decisions and negotiating pauses.

At the same time, China’s official line seeks to combine criticism with a demonstration of readiness for limited stabilization. In the Chinese Ministry of Commerce’s explanation following trade contacts, the emphasis is on reducing tariff escalation, reciprocal market access and maintaining dialogue. This does not imply trust in the United States. Rather, Beijing is showing that negotiations are needed to buy time while Chinese companies accelerate export diversification, the localization of production overseas and the development of new markets. Materials from China’s commerce authorities state directly that, for exporters, a tariff pause means only short-term stability, while the long-term task is to reduce dependence on a single market and strengthen overseas supply chains.

The most interesting point is that France, Japan and China, despite their completely different relationships with Washington, converge on one conclusion: they have stopped viewing American tariffs as an ordinary dispute over the trade balance. In France, this is prompting discussion of European sovereignty and protection against double pressure from the United States and China. In Japan, it is raising the question of how to preserve the alliance with America while reducing vulnerability to its economic decisions. In China, it is reinforcing the need to turn external pressure into an impetus for technological and market self-reliance.

This is where the most important international shift is visible. The United States remains at the center of the global financial, technological and military system, but allies and rivals are increasingly planning their policies not around American promises, but around American reversals. For Paris, Tokyo and Beijing, America today is not simply a market or a geopolitical player. It is a risk variable that must be factored into every long-term strategy.

❮ ❯

America as a Source of Risk: Why Australia, Israel and China Increasingly Talk About the...

In recent weeks, the image of the United States in Australian, Israeli and Chinese debates has come to revolve around one shared concern: Washington remains a country capable of instantly changing the military and political situation, but it is becoming increasingly unpredictable in answering the main question facing both allies and rivals—what will the next step be, and who will pay for its consequences? The main catalyst for this concern is the American war and negotiations with Iran, which have once again threatened shipping through the Strait of Hormuz, global energy prices and confidence in American guarantees. For Australia, this is primarily the risk of being drawn into someone else’s conflict and a blow to trade; for Israel, it is the fear that the White House will conclude an agreement that does not eliminate the Iranian threat; for Chinese authors, it is convenient—but not merely propagandistic—evidence of America’s strategic overextension. (abc.net.au)

The most prominent common theme is doubt that Donald Trump is in control of the crisis he himself helped create. ABC international affairs correspondent Matthew Doran describes American policy as oscillating between the threat of a full-scale war and an attempt to return to negotiations without a clear objective or a convincing exit plan. In the Australian reading, the issue is not only Iran but also the Strait of Hormuz: Tehran can affect the global economy not through a symmetrical military response, but by controlling a maritime chokepoint through which oil, gas and fertilizer are transported. ABC international affairs editor Laura Tingle put the local conclusion particularly bluntly: the strategic advantage in this conflict has turned out to lie not with the United States but with Iran—because Tehran has managed to turn the energy market into a lever of pressure. From this perspective, American power has not disappeared, but it no longer automatically produces a political result. In ABC’s analysis, Doran notes that contradictory interpretations of the interim agreement made a new spiral of escalation almost inevitable; Tingle calls control over energy flows Iran’s main trump card. (abc.net.au)

In Israel, the same White House inconsistency is perceived much more painfully, because the issue here is not reducible to the price of a barrel of oil. Israeli debate is divided not between being “for” or “against” the United States, but over whether the US can be trusted to determine the war’s ultimate objective. Times of Israel reported an assessment by sources in Jerusalem that diplomacy with Tehran would probably fail, eventually forcing Trump to raise the stakes again. At the same time, right-wing Israeli commentators fear the exact opposite—that the president will choose a deal allowing him to declare victory ahead of the US midterm elections while leaving Israel with a long-term problem. Mark Zell, chairman of the Republicans in Israel, directly links the Iran pause to the American electoral calendar in a column for Times of Israel, but views it not as an abandonment of Israel, but as a political calculation in a year when Republicans hold the House of Representatives by a razor-thin majority. (timesofisrael.com)

Yet a more troubling voice for Israel is coming from the right, where the customary admiration for Trump is giving way to demands for strategic independence. Professor Eyal Zisser argues in an article for Israel Hayom that Trump’s contradictory statements have narrowed Israel’s freedom of action and that the country should defend its own positions even at the cost of tension with Washington. This idea is particularly revealing: Israeli circles are no longer merely worried about American weakness, but about American “deal-making.” When Trump says a negotiated solution is “smarter” than continuing the war, Jerusalem hears not only a promise of de-escalation, but also the risk that the United States will trade fundamental demands for a quick end to the crisis. Israeli sources commenting on the presumed compromise over the nuclear program called it “bad news” and warned that such an agreement could merely start the countdown to the next war. (timesofisrael.com)

China’s reaction is structured differently: it expresses almost no concern about alliance relations with Washington, instead consistently turning America’s difficulties into evidence of the limits of US hegemony. Xinhua reports describe the war with Iran as a “quagmire” in which military spending, high oil prices and pressure from the midterm elections are undermining the internal stability of the Trump administration. The Chinese narrative emphasizes the contradiction within “America First”: a president who promised not to drag the country into endless wars and to lower the cost of living has become tied to a conflict that is driving up both spending and prices. This is not a neutral analysis: Beijing uses it to contrast America’s force-based approach with its own rhetoric of stability and multipolarity. But an important substantive element of the Chinese assessment is also worth noting: a prolonged Middle Eastern war diverts scarce US military resources and political attention from the Indo-Pacific region. Australian expert Warwick Powell calls this a “classic imperial dilemma” in the Chinese publication Guancha: the United States cannot easily acknowledge failure, but by avoiding it, risks becoming mired even more deeply. (news.cn)

For Australia, American unpredictability already carries a tangible cost. Canberra initially supported the American objective of preventing Iran from acquiring nuclear weapons, but later declined to join the US military effort in the Strait of Hormuz unconditionally. When Trump publicly reproached Australia for providing insufficient assistance, Defense Minister Richard Marles replied that any actions had to be consistent with “Australia’s national interests.” Behind this formula lies an important shift: even one of the United States’ closest allies is trying to separate support for American strategy from an obligation to automatically participate in every Washington operation. Australian commentators have also linked the war to the vulnerability of Australia’s own forces and bases in the Middle East, while the government has focused on risks to growth, inflation and the energy market. ABC’s report on Canberra’s response shows that the dispute with Trump has become not an episode of diplomatic rhetoric, but a test of the limits of ANZUS solidarity. (abc.net.au)

The second Australian issue—trade—reinforces this feeling. In July, the United States imposed a 12.5 percent tariff on Australian exports, citing concerns about compliance with laws on goods produced using forced labor. The Australian business council called the measure unfounded and warned of declining investment and threats to jobs. In the local perception, what is particularly irritating is not only the size of the tariff, but the principle behind it: an alliance with the United States provides no immunity from economic pressure. ABC reports Westpac’s assessment that the tariff itself may have only a minor effect on US macroeconomic indicators, but will increase uncertainty for businesses and consumers. This brings the Australian debate closer to the Chinese one: in both countries, America is seen as a power willing to use access to its market as a political instrument, although China describes this as a systemic feature of the American order, while Australia sees it as an unwelcome gap between allied promises and practice. (abc.net.au)

That is precisely the main international conclusion. Australia is not abandoning the United States, Israel has not stopped needing American power, and China has not stopped viewing the US as its main strategic competitor. But all three countries are increasingly discussing America not as a stable center of order, but as a variable source of risk. Australians are asking how far an ally can go in a war about which it did not warn its partners; Israelis are asking whether the president might trade long-term security for a short-term political victory; and Chinese authors are asking whether the Middle Eastern “quagmire” could accelerate America’s relative decline. Paradoxically, this is what unites such different societies: today they view Washington not only as a source of protection, threat or rivalry, but as a country whose decisions are becoming increasingly difficult to predict—and increasingly costly to ignore.

❮ ❯

America as an Unreliable Guarantor: Why Riyadh, Beijing and Israel Read the Crisis Differently

In recent weeks, the United States has been discussed in Saudi Arabia, China and Israel primarily not as an abstract superpower, but as the source of three interconnected risks: war involving Iran and the Strait of Hormuz, unpredictable diplomatic deals, and trade and sanctions pressure. The prevailing tone of local discussions is noteworthy: the three countries assess American objectives differently, but almost everywhere there are doubts that Washington can impose its terms, preserve regional deterrence and avoid paying too high an economic price at the same time.

The main issue for Riyadh and Israel is the U.S.–Iran war, interrupted by negotiations, agreements and new clashes. Saudi Arabia’s response is based on a principle far more pragmatic than the familiar formula of an alliance with the United States: the kingdom’s security and freedom of navigation matter more than who is able to declare themselves the winner. In June, Saudi Arabia’s Foreign Ministry welcomed the U.S.–Iran agreement to halt military operations and launch 60 days of talks, separately emphasizing the need to restore navigational security in the Strait of Hormuz to the level that existed before February 28. Riyadh’s statement was particularly revealing in its demand that the “security interests of the countries of the region” be taken into account—in other words, that Washington and Tehran not be allowed to decide the fate of the Gulf bilaterally. This was reported by the Saudi newspaper Okaz.

In the Saudi press, however, this diplomatic hope was quickly replaced by a more anxious assessment. Political analyst Faiz al-Shahri, writing in a column for Al Riyadh, summed up the local view: American military superiority did not lead to Iran’s political submission, while Iran’s ability to restrict traffic in the Strait of Hormuz did not become a strategic victory for Tehran. His conclusion is particularly important: the United States has gained “deterrence without resolution,” Iran has achieved “survival without capitulation,” while the Gulf countries and energy markets remain hostage to the fluctuating decisions of two adversaries. After the June memorandum collapsed, Saudi publications spoke no longer of a breakthrough but of a new war of attrition: Washington cannot use force to ensure the strait remains open, while Tehran cannot keep it under threat indefinitely without also damaging its own economic interests. Okaz described this logic in detail in a July analysis.

Israel sees the same U.S.–Iran dynamic through an entirely different trauma: the fear that the United States is prepared to strike a deal that reduces its own costs while leaving Israel alone with Iranian missiles, proxy networks and Tehran’s restored economic potential. In the Israeli debate, the strongest concern is not simply dissatisfaction with the terms of a possible agreement, but doubt about the reliability of American support itself. Journalist Itamar Eichner, in a commentary for Ynet, called Benjamin Netanyahu’s decade-long bet on Donald Trump a loss at “roulette”: in his assessment, Israel is facing not only external adversaries but also the gradual erosion of what was once solid American support. For part of Israel’s political establishment, the presumed American compromise with Iran looks in practice like a reward for Tehran—access to unfrozen assets, investment and postwar reconstruction—in exchange for commitments that have yet to be tested.

But Israel also has a less emotional, more military-pragmatic school of thought. Military correspondent Ron Ben-Yishai wrote in Ynet that the U.S.–Iran memorandum was a “bad deal,” but not a final verdict: negotiations could give Israel time, open a path toward an arrangement on the Lebanese front and expose internal divisions within Iran itself. This is an important split in Israel’s response. Some see the very fact of American negotiations as evidence that Washington is abandoning its ally; others believe Israel would benefit more from using American diplomacy as a pause rather than trying to derail it at any cost. In both cases, however, the starting premise is the same: Israel’s ultimate security cannot depend solely on American guarantees.

China’s interpretation of the same story is far less connected to an immediate fear of Iran and much more to the argument that America’s ability to manage the world order is diminishing. Chinese authors are not merely noting that Washington entered negotiations after applying military pressure; they interpret this as evidence of a structural weakening of American hegemony in the Middle East. Expert Liu Zhongmin, in an analysis for The Paper, argues that the agreement with Iran demonstrated a shift by the United States from “hard coercion” to an urgent compromise, while the course of the conflict reflects not an isolated failure but a shift in the regional balance of power. Another Chinese analysis in The Paper describes the current model as a new standard—“fighting and talking,” “talking and fighting”: official channels remain open, but low-intensity clashes continue because neither side can impose a lasting solution.

In Beijing, this picture has a dual meaning. On the one hand, an unstable Strait of Hormuz threatens China’s energy supplies and global trade, so China has an objective interest in de-escalation. On the other, America’s inability to turn military power into a political outcome reinforces China’s criticism of unilateral sanctions, coercive diplomacy and bloc-based thinking. The Saudi press also notes this feature of China’s position, though without illusions: in an Okaz article, Beijing is described as a “cold-balancing” player for whom Iran is important as part of an energy and geopolitical framework, but not as an ally for whose sake China is prepared to enter into direct confrontation with the United States. This is a rare point of agreement between Saudi and Chinese interpretations: neither side expects an external great power to defend someone else’s interests for free.

The second major line of discussion is U.S. trade policy. China is at the center of the conflict, but its implications are being closely followed in Riyadh and Israel as well. On July 28, China’s Ministry of Commerce stated that the United States had imposed additional 12.5 percent tariffs under Section 301 on China and dozens of other economies, even though the American side had previously promised during bilateral consultations not to raise substitute tariffs above 20 percent. In the ministry’s official response, Beijing characterized the measures as Washington’s retreat from its commitments. China’s response is therefore based not only on an accusation of protectionism: it portrays the United States as a country that first changes the legal instrument used for tariffs and then attempts to preserve the previous level of pressure under a new legal label.

For Chinese audiences, the connection between tariffs and the Middle East crisis is obvious: Washington simultaneously wants to preserve its technological and trade advantage over China, control the Persian Gulf’s energy artery and force Iran to make concessions. But Chinese commentators see this not as strategic coherence but as an overextension of American policy. Back in July, Professor Zhao Suisheng, speaking at a forum at Fudan University and publishing on Guancha, warned that America’s “overreaction” to China would have long-term negative consequences. His central point was that Washington had already developed a bipartisan consensus viewing China as a strategic competitor, but that this consensus was pushing the United States toward a policy of protracted crisis rather than managed coexistence.

The Saudi perspective adds a commercial dimension. Riyadh does not want to choose between Washington and Beijing: military cooperation with the United States, along with American technology and investment, is essential to the kingdom, while China remains a critical trade and energy partner. For Saudi Arabia, therefore, American pressure on China or Iran is dangerous not in ideological but in practical terms: it could turn investment routes, oil prices, shipping insurance and technology supply chains into tools of a rivalry between others. Israel, for its part, views the American trade and technology policy differently—as evidence that the United States is increasingly concentrating resources on global competition with China and is becoming less willing to finance open-ended conflicts in the Middle East indefinitely.

This is where a common, though not always explicitly stated, conclusion emerges across the three countries. Saudi Arabia wants predictability and protection of shipping from America, but demands recognition of its own interests. Israel wants firmness from America against Iran, but is increasingly unsure that personal relationships between leaders can substitute for institutional guarantees. China wants American restrictions and military campaigns to demonstrate the decline of American leadership, yet it also fears the chaos that harms energy supplies and global trade. America remains an indispensable power for all three; but it is no longer seen as a power capable of setting the rules alone and without consequences.

❮ ❯

America as an Unpredictable Partner: Why Washington Is Discussed in Turkey, Russia and South...

In discussions over the past few weeks, the United States has appeared to Turkey, Russia and South Africa less as a distant superpower than as a source of very concrete risks and opportunities—from market access and fighter jets to fuel prices and the prospects for negotiations on the war. The common thread in these reactions is neither simple anti-Americanism nor hope for a “reset,” but the belief that Donald Trump’s administration is turning foreign policy into a series of tough, personalized and reversible deals. Ankara is therefore trying to convert its proximity to the White House into defense dividends, Moscow is seeking to make Washington return to previous agreements on Ukraine, and Pretoria is trying to limit the damage from tariff policy without abandoning its own commitment to a multipolar world. (aa.com.tr)

The main theme shared by all three countries is tariffs as an instrument of political pressure. But Turkey and South Africa interpret them in very different ways. In Ankara, the official tone is noticeably cautious yet optimistic: Turkey’s Trade Ministry emphasizes that the country has been placed in a lower tariff category than many competitors and calls this evidence that Turkey is viewed as a “positive” U.S. trading partner. An Anadolu Ajansı report directly links this fact to the preservation of export competitiveness; at the same time, Ankara continues separate negotiations on steel, automobiles and copper. Here, the American tariff is seen not only as a barrier but also as a relative advantage: if Chinese, European or Latin American suppliers face a higher cost of entering the U.S. market, Turkey may try to capture part of their niche. (aa.com.tr)

Turkish economists, however, are far less certain that this advantage will last. In an analysis for Anadolu Ajansı, Professor Elif Nuroğlu describes Trump’s approach as a “game of cat and mouse”: first a threat, then a delay, followed by a new ultimatum. What matters is not so much the nominal tariff rate as the unpredictability of the rules. This is a characteristic Turkish interpretation of Trump’s America: a partner with whom one can secure a profitable deal, but with whom one cannot build a long-term strategy without allowing for sudden changes in the terms. Turkish businesses therefore see both a chance to attract relocated production and a threat to inflation, export markets and currency stability. (aa.com.tr)

In South Africa, the same policy is seen less as a window of opportunity and more as a reminder of structural dependence. After the 12.5 percent tariff took effect, Parks Tau, the minister of trade, industry and competition, said Pretoria would continue seeking its removal or reduction. As News24 reports, the government is even prepared to introduce procedures against imports produced using forced or child labor—in other words, to adapt part of its domestic regulation to U.S. requirements. But in South African debate, this is presented not as a negotiating victory but as the price of access to the market. (news24.com)

The agricultural sector’s response is particularly revealing. Wandile Sihlobo, chief economist of the Agricultural Business Chamber of South Africa, acknowledges the value of extending AGOA—the U.S. trade-preference system for African countries—but insists in a News24 column that it cannot by itself save exporters if a significant share of goods remains subject to high tariffs. For producers of citrus fruit, grapes, nuts, wine and juices, the issue is measured not in geopolitical prestige but in jobs in rural areas. Where Turkey is trying to derive a relative benefit from a softer regime, South Africa sees how conditional U.S. promises of partnership with Africa have become. (news24.com)

The second shared theme is American power as a bargaining tool in the security sphere. In Turkey, this is linked to a rare sense of diplomatic momentum in the current period. Following Trump’s July meeting with Recep Tayyip Erdoğan on the sidelines of the NATO summit in Ankara, Turkish media paid particular attention to the possible lifting of CAATSA sanctions and a return to the question of F-35 deliveries. An official Anadolu Ajansı analysis presents this as a chance to remove the longstanding “lock” in military-technical relations. Yet even favorable assessments do not mean a return to the old Atlantic discipline: for Ankara, closer ties with the United States are valuable precisely insofar as they expand Turkey’s room for maneuver, rather than constrain it. (aa.com.tr)

This is one of the most distinctive Turkish ideas: the personal chemistry between Erdoğan and Trump is regarded as a diplomatic asset, but neither as a substitute for institutions nor as a guarantee of trust. In a sharply critical Turkish Minute column, this duality is put bluntly: Erdoğan won the optics, but the real leverage remains with Washington. In other words, even amid public promises, the United States may retain the right to determine the pace, terms and limits of military-technical rapprochement. That is why the Turkish reaction combines a celebratory tone around the F-35 with a longstanding reluctance to make national defense policy dependent on a single ally. (turkishminute.com)

The Russian debate about the United States is almost the mirror image: here, Washington matters not as a potential provider of opportunities but as the only external power capable of either consolidating or derailing a political settlement over Ukraine. Sergey Lavrov has repeatedly brought the conversation back to the agreements Moscow considers to have been reached at the August 15, 2025, summit in Anchorage. In an Interfax report, the foreign minister said that Russia had accepted the American side’s proposals for a settlement; he later stated that Moscow saw no U.S. interest in implementing those understandings. His formula—readiness for “honest negotiations, without cheating”—is important not only as a diplomatic signal but also as a description of the Russian public and political mood: any contacts with America are considered useful, but confidence in their outcome remains minimal. (interfax.ru)

At the same time, in the Russian interpretation, the problem is not limited to Trump’s volatility. America is described as a power that speaks simultaneously of mediation and, in Moscow’s view, supports Ukraine’s military capabilities. In an interview summarized by Interfax, Lavrov called the dialogue a “vicious circle”: according to him, the sympathies of individual American negotiators do not translate into a political result. This sharply distinguishes the Russian reaction from the Turkish one: Ankara is trying to use its personal channel to Trump as a practical resource, whereas Moscow concludes that personal contacts are powerless unless U.S. policy changes its strategic course. (interfax.ru)

The South African perspective adds an unexpected dimension to this picture: the United States is seen not merely as a party to individual conflicts but as a factor undermining the ability of international institutions to reach common decisions at all. In a South African academic commentary published through The Conversation Africa, the transfer of the G20 presidency from South Africa to the United States is described as a test of the group’s legitimacy. The authors link their concern not only to trade conflicts but also to what they see as Washington’s treatment of inequality, solidarity and reform of global governance as a politically suspect agenda. For a country using its G20 presidency to speak on behalf of the Global South, this is not an abstract dispute over rhetoric but a dispute over whether developing countries will retain a platform for collective influence. (cdn.theconversation.com)

Another important, though less obvious, factor is the cost of American military decisions for third countries. In South Africa, U.S. and Israeli strikes on Iran were discussed through the threat of fuel inflation, diesel shortages and the consequences for farmers and air transport. A The Conversation analysis noted that a surge in oil prices is quickly reflected in South African costs because of the import-parity system used to set fuel prices. Russia’s official reaction converges with this not because of shared political sympathies but because of the same economic conclusion: Lavrov said that the continuation of the U.S.-Iran conflict harms the global economy, of which Russia is also a part. Thus, a war unfolding far from Pretoria and Moscow becomes an argument for both countries against America’s tendency to resolve political problems through force. (cdn.theconversation.com)

The conclusion of these three national debates does not amount to a united front against the United States. Turkey does not want a rupture with Washington—on the contrary, it wants to integrate more advantageously into the American security and trade systems. South Africa also does not seek to abandon the U.S. market, but demands relations in which AGOA preferences are not neutralized by tariffs and political conditions. Russia leaves the door to dialogue open, but describes the United States as a partner whose proposals may be overturned by domestic pressure, sanctions logic or a change in foreign-policy direction. What they share is not a demand for literal equality with America but for predictability: trade rules should not become ultimatums, security should not be reduced to a personal deal between leaders, and diplomacy should not be merely a pause between new rounds of pressure.

❮ ❯

America as a Risk: Why Brazil, Australia and India Are Counting the Cost

By August 10, 2026, discussions of America in Brazil, Australia and India have unexpectedly converged on a single point: the United States is no longer seen only as the world’s largest market, a military ally or a counterweight to China, but also as a source of political and economic unpredictability. The triggers have included US tariffs, the renewed US war with Iran and Washington’s increasingly open pressure on its partners. Local reactions, however, differ. In Brazil, the main issue is sovereignty and alleged attempts to interfere in elections; in India, it is how to avoid trading strategic autonomy for unreliable trade promises; in Australia, it is whether the ANZUS and AUKUS alliances have become mechanisms for automatically drawing the country into someone else’s war.

The most prominent common theme is trade as an instrument of political coercion. In Brazil, an additional 25% US tariff on a significant share of exports is being interpreted not as an ordinary commercial dispute, but as a mixture of protectionism, ideological pressure and domestic Brazilian politics. An editorial in Folha de S.Paulo highlights the almost demonstrative mismatch between Washington’s stated grounds—Pix, ethanol, court rulings, intellectual property, corruption and the environment—and the economic logic of the measures: Brazil already runs a trade deficit with the United States. The newspaper calls these arguments more a “repertoire” of justifications for barriers than evidence of unfair practices. At the same time, it stresses a caveat characteristic of the Brazilian debate: the response should not be a symmetrical trade war. The authors call for using the crisis to open up Brazil’s economy and improve its competitiveness. (www1.folha.uol.com.br)

In India, the same issue is framed more pragmatically, but no less sharply. New Delhi received a 10% US tariff as part of a Section 301 investigation formally linked to forced labor, after India had already banned imports of goods produced using it. To Indian commentators, this sequence confirms that the procedure serves as a negotiating lever rather than as neutral protection of labor rights. An analysis in the Indian Express notes that Washington nevertheless reduced the proposed rate from 12.5% to 10%, taking India’s legislative steps into account. But this did not resolve the central question: if the rules change in response to court decisions in the United States itself and successive presidential orders, how reliable can a major bilateral agreement really be? (indianexpress.com)

Indian trade expert Ajay Srivastava states the local consensus especially clearly in a column for the Indian Express: until US trade policy returns to “legal certainty and durability,” broad concessions are dangerous, because a country could surrender permanent access to its market in exchange for tariff advantages that might disappear overnight. This is not anti-Americanism in the conventional sense. Rather, it is an Indian version of strategic autonomy: continue negotiations and purchase American goods where it is advantageous, but do not allow Washington to turn a deal into a mechanism of one-sided dependence. (indianexpress.com)

Australia’s reaction is more painful precisely because Australia is one of the United States’ closest allies. A new 12.5% duty on Australian exports was justified on the grounds that Canberra was allegedly doing too little to ban imports of goods made using forced labor. The Australian government responds that the country already has a Modern Slavery Act, while the US side has identified neither a specific company nor a specific enforcement failure. An ABC report describes the measure primarily as another wave of uncertainty for exporters: temporary tariff arrangements keep replacing one another, and even a politically loyal ally cannot be sure that previous agreements will remain in force. (abc.net.au)

This produces a shared, though differently colored, conclusion: closeness to Washington no longer guarantees predictability. In Brazil, this strengthens the language of national dignity and resistance to external pressure; in India, it bolsters arguments for diversifying markets and rejecting hasty concessions; in Australia, it fuels doubts that an alliance with America automatically provides economic protection. Significantly, a July Lowy Institute poll recorded a record-low level of Australian trust in President Donald Trump—21%—while 51% of respondents said for the first time that relations with China were more important than relations with the United States. This does not mean Australia is turning toward Beijing, but it does mean that American unpredictability is already changing the framework of the national debate. (lowyinstitute.org)

The second major theme is the US war with Iran and its cost for countries that do not make decisions in Washington but pay for them through fuel prices, logistics and security risks. The Indian press discusses the conflict primarily through the Strait of Hormuz, through which about one-fifth of the world’s oil supplies pass, and through the vulnerability of Indian citizens and trade routes in the Persian Gulf. An explanatory article in the Indian Express states plainly that a return to open warfare would pose both a threat to people in the region and a severe economic blow to India. Former Indian diplomat and politician Shashi Tharoor, in his column, argues that the world increasingly sees the United States not as a stable anchor but as an “unpredictable risk” to the global balance. (indianexpress.com)

Australia’s concern is different in nature: the debate there is no longer only about the consequences of the war, but also about the extent of the country’s own involvement. Prime Minister Anthony Albanese initially supported US actions to prevent Iran from acquiring nuclear weapons, but later stressed that Canberra had not been consulted before the US-Israeli strikes began and that Australia wanted de-escalation. ABC quoted his position: Australia is an important US ally, but the consequences of the war have become global, and the conflict must end. (abc.net.au)

Critics of the government go further. Lachlan Strahan, a former Australian high commissioner, writes in an analysis for Guardian Australia about the unease felt by traditional US allies: in his view, Trump launched the campaign without a clear strategy for how it should end. Experts and opposition politicians are raising an uncomfortable question: can Australia’s intelligence, aviation and military-logistics support be considered exclusively “defensive” if those capabilities free up American resources for strikes? (theguardian.com)

The Brazilian view of the war is more distant, but not indifferent. The conflict is more often assessed here through a macroeconomic lens: rising oil prices both increase the export revenues of an oil-producing country and fuel domestic inflation. Folha, reporting the IMF’s assessment, notes that Brazil is relatively better protected from an oil shock than net energy importers, but remains vulnerable to global instability. This is an important contrast with India: for one country, the US war with Iran is primarily a threat to energy security; for the other, it is a two-sided commodity shock. (www1.folha.uol.com.br)

Finally, in Brazil, the American issue has taken on a particularly acute democratic dimension. After US representatives attempted to travel to Brasília to discuss “electoral integrity,” freedom of speech and freedom of religion, Brazilian authorities did not issue them visas. The US State Department called suspicions that the mission was intended to undermine the elections baseless, but the very appearance of such a mission during an election year proved politically toxic. As Folha de S.Paulo reported, the Brazilian side saw the initiative as a risk of sowing doubts about the transparency of electronic voting. (www1.folha.uol.com.br)

This is where the three countries’ most unusual common thread becomes visible. Brazil fears that American pressure could influence domestic democratic competition; Australia worries that its military infrastructure and alliance obligations are reducing its freedom of political choice; India is trying to prevent American tariffs and trade promises from narrowing the space for its own foreign policy. Different countries, different relationships with the United States, different vulnerabilities—but one common question: how can they cooperate with America without making its decisions part of their own domestic destiny?

❮ ❯

America as a Source of Controlled Instability: Views from South Africa, Turkey and China...

In South Africa, Turkey and China, the American agenda is now perceived not as a set of domestic White House decisions, but as the main generator of risks for global trade, regional security and even the internal political polarization of other countries. At the center of the discussion are the fragile U.S.–Iranian settlement following the Islamabad Memorandum, the attempt by the United States to contain and negotiate with China simultaneously, and the American tendency to turn questions of identity and migration into instruments of foreign policy. The overall tone is notably skeptical: local commentators do not consider the United States a weak power, but increasingly describe it as a power whose strength has become less predictable—and therefore more dangerous for both partners and rivals.

The most acute issue is Iran. In the Turkish debate, this is not an abstract Middle Eastern crisis, but a question of oil prices, maritime security and Ankara’s ability to act as a mediator. In a July analysis for Anadolu Ajansı, researcher Bilgehan Alagöz interprets the events following the June 17 Islamabad Memorandum as “controlled escalation”: the United States and Iran are avoiding a major war, but using limited military strikes, sanctions and threats as bargaining tools. The episode of July 6–7 is particularly telling for Turkish observers, when an attack on merchant vessels in the Strait of Hormuz and the American response took place against the backdrop of the NATO summit in Ankara. To them, this indicates that the crisis can no longer be viewed solely as a bilateral U.S.–Iranian conflict: it is directly drawing Turkey into the role of a country through which both diplomatic and energy routes pass.

The Turkish view is less moralistic than pragmatic. Ankara’s authors are debating not so much whether the United States is “right,” but whether it is capable of formulating an achievable political objective. In an analysis by Independent Türkçe, former head of the Turkish Air Force Intelligence Department Gürsel Tokmakoğlu emphasized that a prolonged campaign simultaneously damages American law, the economy and the administration’s domestic political standing: an oil shock quickly turns into higher prices for fuel, food and transportation. In this logic, Trump is constrained by his own promise to protect the American wallet. A war that drives up inflation becomes not only a geopolitical problem for Washington, but an electoral one as well.

Chinese authors view the same story much more harshly—not as a difficult negotiation, but as a symptom of a structural crisis in American hegemony. In an article for The Paper, international relations scholar Liu Zhongmin describes Trump’s policy as a mixture of direct military intervention, “maximum pressure” and economic coercion, forcing the White House to lurch between threats and retreat. The key Chinese argument is that the United States’ problem is not simply Iran’s resistance. American strategy has become hostage to excessive objectives: Washington wants both to force Tehran into submission and preserve freedom of navigation through the Strait of Hormuz, avoid becoming bogged down in a prolonged war and prevent the region from finally slipping out of its influence. In the view of Chinese commentators, combining all of this is nearly impossible.

South African reactions coincide with Chinese criticism of American force-based policy, but add their own postcolonial and moral dimension. In a column for Mail & Guardian, Michael Bryan Lee compares the United States in the Iranian conflict to a football team that has reduced itself to ten men: pressure without a clear political objective, he writes, becomes violence equipped with a good PR campaign. This is particularly characteristic of the South African perspective. Here, American actions are assessed through the experience of the struggle against apartheid, distrust of the double standards of great powers and the memory that international solidarity can be a matter of survival rather than rhetoric.

But there is also a significant difference among the three countries. In Turkey, there is concern that the United States could destabilize the balance in a neighboring region. In China, the situation is seen as an opportunity to demonstrate the limitations of American leadership and strengthen Beijing’s image as a stabilizer. South Africa perceives America as a force interfering in its domestic racial and land disputes as well. After Washington expanded its admission of Afrikaners through the refugee program, the local press saw this not as a humanitarian initiative, but as the export of America’s “culture war” to a country with an extremely painful history of racial domination.

News24 draws attention to the stark contrast: while the overall U.S. refugee admissions cap remains low, infrastructure for expedited processing of applications from white South Africans is expanding. Historian John Broich puts it bluntly: “whiteness” is beginning to function as an official migration criterion. For a South African audience, this is not merely a dispute over visas. It raises suspicions that the White House has chosen one ethnic group and thereby granted international legitimacy to the claim of a “white genocide,” which local courts, researchers and many civil society organizations consider false and politically destructive.

Significantly, South Africa’s conflict over this narrative is unfolding not only between Pretoria and Washington, but within the country itself. An article in Mail & Guardian cites Judge Bernard Ngoepe’s conclusion that the organization AfriForum itself created the conditions under which its international campaign could be understood as promoting the idea of “white genocide.” The most painful aspect of the local reaction is not even Trump’s words, but the fact that part of South Africa’s political struggle was transferred into America’s partisan and ideological ecosystem and returned in a more radical form.

On the second major common issue—the relationship between the United States and China—Turkey and China use similar language, but place different hopes in it. In Ankara, Trump’s May trip to Beijing was viewed as a transition from trade war to pragmatic bargaining. Professor Tarık Oğuzlu, in an analysis for Anadolu Ajansı, called it an attempt to buy time rather than end the rivalry. His conclusion is important: Turkey does not expect a lasting U.S.–China reconciliation, but is interested in keeping competition between the two superpowers manageable. For an economy dependent on trade, energy and foreign capital, even a temporary reduction in tariff and technological tensions is itself beneficial.

China’s official and expert narratives present the same meeting as a move toward “constructive strategic stability.” In an Xinhua report published by The Paper, Xi Jinping posed the question in the broadest possible terms: can the two countries avoid the “Thucydides Trap”—a war between a dominant power and a rising one? And in an interview with The Paper, American Chamber of Commerce in China head Michael Hart conveys the business community’s mood in even simpler terms: what matters most to companies is the possibility of regular contact, because tariffs imposed and lifted at short intervals make normal planning nearly impossible.

This is perhaps the main conclusion shared by South African, Turkish and Chinese observers. What concerns them is not American power as such, but its abrupt shifts between modes: from sanctions to negotiations, from military pressure to promises of a deal, from talk of free trade to tariffs, and from protecting refugees to selective humanitarianism. China is trying to turn this inconsistency into an argument for its own role as a stabilizer; Turkey sees it as space for mediation and strategic maneuvering; South Africa views it as a reason to defend sovereignty and reject externally imposed racial polarization.

That is why, outside the United States, Trump is increasingly perceived not as the architect of a new stable world system, but as a politician forcing other states to build insurance against America. In Beijing, that insurance takes the form of negotiations and economic interdependence; in Ankara, multilateral diplomacy and a regional mediating role; in Pretoria, resistance to ideological frameworks imposed from abroad. It is precisely this drive to “hedge” against American risk, rather than simple anti-American rhetoric, that is becoming the most noticeable common reaction across these three very different societies.

❮ ❯

America Trapped in the Strait of Hormuz: China, Israel and France Debate Not U.S

The main American story currently drawing the strongest reaction in China, Israel and France is the new phase of the U.S. conflict with Iran over the Strait of Hormuz. In local commentary, this no longer looks like another regional operation by Washington. For the French, it is a symptom of the White House’s strategic improvisation and a source of risk to the global economy; for the Israelis, an alarming test of whether America can turn pressure on Iran into a political result; and for Chinese observers, an example of how a superpower is narrowing its own room for maneuver by becoming trapped between military demonstrations and the need to negotiate.

Chinese official analysis has been particularly consistent in portraying the United States as a party caught in a “military-diplomatic dilemma.” In an analysis published on July 9, Xinhua emphasizes that Donald Trump’s administration is simultaneously seeking to avoid returning to a full-scale war and to avoid appearing conciliatory toward Tehran. In the Chinese presentation, the key issue is not so much the individual strikes as the contradiction at the heart of U.S. strategy: Washington has reinstated oil sanctions and launched a new series of strikes, but has still moved no closer either to a lasting agreement on Iran’s nuclear program or to unimpeded shipping through the Strait of Hormuz. Xinhua quotes former U.S. negotiator Aaron David Miller as saying that Trump has “painted himself into a corner” and is unlikely to achieve much through either military or diplomatic means. The Chinese perspective here is not neutral: it turns America’s difficulties into an argument against coercive policy in general—particularly policies based on sanctions, maritime pressure and the threat of escalation. (www3.xinhuanet.com)

The French reaction is close to this assessment in its diagnosis, but differs in its motivation. The Paris press says less about the geopolitical decline of the United States as such and more about the failure to manage the crisis. An editorial in Le Monde describes the current situation as a war deadlock: the agreement reached after the April ceasefire proved too vague precisely on the issue of control over the Strait of Hormuz. For the French authors, it is particularly revealing that the original U.S. goal—constraining Iran and its nuclear capabilities—has been displaced by a dispute over shipping, tariffs and effective control of the strait. In other words, U.S. military superiority has not translated into political clarity. French criticism is harsher than Chinese criticism on one fundamental point: in the editorial board’s view, the problem lies not only in Iran’s resistance, but also in the “improvisation” of the Trump administration, whose contradictory signals allowed Tehran to exploit the weaknesses of a poorly formulated agreement. (lemonde.fr)

In Israel, the same story is viewed through a much narrower and more painful lens: will Washington lose sight of the main issue—Iran’s nuclear and missile programs? Sima Shine, former head of the Iran program at Israel’s Institute for National Security Studies, notes in a commentary for N12 that the memorandum of understanding means, at best, a ceasefire rather than an end to the conflict. In her assessment, the proposed arrangement leaves unanswered the fate of the centrifuges, the parameters of International Atomic Energy Agency inspections and many other critical questions. The most notable aspect of the Israeli analysis is its skepticism about the American protective role in the Persian Gulf: Gulf states, Shine writes, have concluded that the United States failed to protect their infrastructure and bases from being drawn into a war they did not want. This is significant: in the Israeli debate, the doubt is directed not at the alliance with America itself, but at the effectiveness of the American deterrence model.

This concern does not mean that Israel expects the war to expand immediately. On the contrary, there is a clear desire to remain outside the current exchange of strikes as long as it remains confined to Hormuz. Reserve Brig. Gen. Tzvika Haimovich, former commander of Israel’s air-defense system, describes the conflict in an article for Israel Hayom as the “first war for Hormuz”: the United States is striking primarily at facilities linked to the strait, Iran is responding against American targets in the region, but so far is avoiding an attack on Israel. Haimovich advises Israel to maintain a high state of readiness while following a “correct and passive” course. This reflects an important local feature: for part of the Israeli establishment, the American campaign becomes dangerous precisely when its logic expands from maritime security back to Iran’s nuclear sites or ballistic missiles. In that case, according to this assessment, Iran could once again bring Israel into a direct military scenario. (israelhayom.co.il)

The common theme in the Chinese, French and Israeli reactions is not a belief in an imminent American defeat on the battlefield, but doubt about the United States’ ability to define an achievable political objective. China sees the limits of hegemonic coercion; France sees the destructive consequences of diplomatic carelessness for trade, energy and allies; and Israel sees the risk that America will agree to a respite without eliminating the threat that prompted the campaign in the first place. Israeli commentator Yoni Ben-Menachem directly articulates a suspicion widespread in Jerusalem: Trump has shifted to a strategy of “negotiations under fire,” seeking to combine military and economic pressure with a future deal while avoiding another major war on the eve of the U.S. November midterm elections. In his commentary, he emphasizes that the pursuit of a deal may be no less important to Washington than the demonstration of force. (epoch.org.il)

The most unexpected conclusion emerging from a comparison of these three debates is that America is increasingly perceived not as an outside arbiter imposing order, but as one of the parties to the conflict, whose domestic political timelines and economic constraints determine the region’s fate. In France, this is described as the risk of a new “endless war,” already unpopular within American society itself; in China, as a narrowing of Washington’s range of choices; and in Israel, as grounds both to remain close to American military power and not to rely on its political resolve. In this view, Hormuz is not merely a strait through which oil passes. It has become the place where allies, rivals and observers are testing whether the United States can, after launching a strike, formulate a peace that will last longer than the next pause between attacks.

❮ ❯

America as a Risky Ally: How Riyadh, Canberra and Jerusalem Assess the Cost Differently

In recent weeks, the United States has become the subject of particularly anxious discussion in Saudi Arabia, Australia and Israel—not because of the abstract notion of “Western leadership,” but because of a very specific question: can Washington simultaneously be a security guarantor, a reliable economic partner and a predictable strategist? The answers differ markedly in the three countries, but they share one idea: American power remains indispensable, yet its current political style makes that power a source of risk for allies.

The main common theme has been the US approach to Iran and the crisis surrounding the Strait of Hormuz. In Saudi Arabia, the issue is viewed primarily through the lens of maritime trade security, energy revenues and the right of Gulf states not to be reduced to bystanders in Washington–Tehran negotiations. In a column for Arab News, Saudi commentator Hassan Al-Mustafa emphasizes that Riyadh supported the halt in hostilities and the negotiations, but links the meaning of any deal to restoring freedom of navigation to prewar levels. For the Saudi debate, this is not a technical detail. Hormuz is an artery through which energy exports and supplies for global markets pass; if the strait’s security becomes a bargaining chip, regional powers learn that even US military involvement does not guarantee a stable order. (arabnews.com)

Australia’s reaction is far more critical of the way the United States uses force. In an ABC analysis, correspondent Matthew Doran describes a logic that strongly reflects the local perspective: Washington, which began the campaign by promising a short war, underestimated Iran’s ability to turn Hormuz into a lever of pressure on the entire global economy. The issue here is not sympathy for Tehran—Australian commentators harbor no illusions about the Iranian regime—but the conclusion that a show of military force without a realistic plan for a political settlement creates a cascade of consequences that allies end up paying for. Australia has found itself in a particularly uncomfortable position: it is expected to show solidarity with the United States, while the conflict’s consequences are hitting prices, shipping routes and Australia’s own security. (abc.net.au)

In Israel, the reaction to US–Iran diplomacy is even more anxious, but for a different reason. The concern there is not that Washington is too belligerent, but that it may settle for a compromise allowing Iran to rebuild its resources without eliminating the key threats. A June poll by the Institute for National Security Studies found that 66% of Israelis consider the US–Iran memorandum harmful to Israel, while only 12% believe Donald Trump is highly committed to protecting Israeli interests. This is a notable shift: distrust in Israel is directed not at the American alliance as such, but at its inconsistency and contradictions. (inss.org.il)

INSS experts Eldad Shavit and Jesse Weinberg explain Israel’s dilemma particularly clearly in their analysis of the memorandum: for Trump, an interim agreement offers an opportunity to present the outcome as an end to the war, stabilization of energy markets and a diplomatic success; for Israel, however, it is dangerous if enriched uranium, missile infrastructure and Iran’s ability to rebuild its capabilities remain under its cover. In other words, Jerusalem assesses US strategy according to whether it eliminates the threat, whereas the White House, in the view of many Israeli observers, assesses it by the speed of exiting the crisis and its domestic political benefits. (inss.org.il)

Against this backdrop, the Saudi–US agreement on peaceful nuclear energy, signed on July 22, became the second major topic—and a rare example of how the American presence is viewed positively in Riyadh. Saudi media portray it not as a sudden geopolitical deal, but as the result of a years-long move toward a post-oil economy. In an article in Al Riyadh, Sarah Al-Muayzer describes the agreement as a shift from conventional energy cooperation to a long-term partnership in one of the most technologically complex industries. From this perspective, nuclear power is needed not because the kingdom lacks oil, but because oil is more profitable to export and use in petrochemicals than to burn for domestic electricity generation. (alriyadh.com)

But a more subtle calculation lies behind the optimism. Saudi authors do not describe the alliance with America as an ideological choice. In an analytical article by Bina Al-Mulhim, the agreement is interpreted as a way to obtain technology, strengthen the sovereignty of decision-making and preserve room for maneuver among the United States, China, Europe and Russia. The purpose of the deal for Riyadh is not to return to its old one-sided dependence on Washington, but to increase the value of the Saudi partnership for Washington. Saudi businessman and commentator Turki Al-Faisal Al-Rashid put it almost without diplomatic embellishment in Arab News: American cooperation helps ensure high standards of oversight, but the kingdom has other international options as well. (alriyadh.com)

Australians see another problem in the same American policy: Washington demands strategic loyalty, yet can simultaneously punish even a close ally with trade measures. At the end of July, the US administration imposed a 12.5% tariff on Australian exports, explaining the decision by citing insufficient enforcement of Australian rules against goods produced using forced labor. In an ABC report, Australian businesspeople warned that the measure would undermine competitiveness and slow investment. For Canberra, the contrast is especially irritating: Australia is a US defense ally, a buyer of American weapons and a participant in AUKUS, yet none of that shields it from tariff pressure. (abc.net.au)

That is why AUKUS is increasingly discussed in Australia not only as a shield against China, but also as a dependence on an unpredictable America. A Lowy Institute poll published on June 22 recorded Australians’ lowest-ever level of trust in the United States: 60% said they did not trust Trump at all on world affairs, while 51% believed that Australia should distance itself from the United States under his leadership. At the same time, 73% still considered the American alliance important to the country’s security. This is not an anti-American turn, but a far more complex position: the alliance is necessary, yet its political cost is becoming increasingly unacceptable. (lowyinstitute.org)

Retired Australian diplomat Lachlan Strahan expressed the local anxiety particularly vividly in a conversation with Guardian Australia: Canberra is trying to signal disagreement, or at least discomfort, with US actions without provoking a conflict with Trump that it would inevitably lose. Critics of AUKUS go further: deep integration of military structures, bases, intelligence and submarine programs could lead to a situation in which Australia becomes involved in an American war before Canberra has made a full political decision. (theguardian.com)

The most unexpected common conclusion from the Saudi, Australian and Israeli debates is that none of them is simply proposing to “turn away from America.” Saudi Arabia wants to turn its American partnership into an instrument of technological autonomy. Australia wants to preserve the alliance while regaining political control over the extent of its involvement in American conflicts. Israel wants tougher and verifiable American commitments regarding Iran, fearing that Washington’s diplomatic success could amount to a strategic postponement of the threat.

Thus, the international image of the United States is changing not from strength to weakness, but from strength to unpredictability. Riyadh is responding with diversification, Canberra with growing public skepticism, and Jerusalem with demands for guarantees and fear of an “incomplete victory.” American power still shapes the decisions of all three, but trust in how exactly Washington will use that power tomorrow is becoming the scarcest resource in US relations with its allies.

❮ ❯

How arguments about Trump’s America play out in South Korea, Russia and Australia: tariffs, alliance...

In recent weeks, in three very different countries, discussion about the United States has narrowed not to some abstract “American policy,” but to the same feeling: America is acting again as a source of external pressure, and every partner has to decide what is more dangerous for them—arguing with Washington or accommodating it. In South Korea, the dispute revolves around tariffs, defense, and how far the “upgrading” of the alliance can go; in Russia, around Ukraine, negotiations, and whether Washington has any interest in settlement at all; in Australia, around tariff blows to exports, declining trust in the United States, and anxiety that an alliance with America now means less protection than being pulled into someone else’s decisions. (hani.co.kr)

The most visible common theme is trade coercion. In South Korea, American tariffs are discussed almost like a systemic risk for the country’s export model: local outlets write that after U.S. Supreme Court decisions, Trump’s tariff regimes have not disappeared—they have only changed form, and now Korean businesses have to keep track of compensation, exemptions, and new rounds of duties. Chosun Ilbo notes that even after part of the “mutual tariffs” was removed, the Korean side still faces tension: in its coverage, the emphasis is that for Seoul it matters not only what the formal rates are, but also the very unpredictability of American policy, which could once again put “key export goods” in the line of fire. (chosun.com)

Australia’s reaction to the same issue is far more emotional and political. ABC News reports that in July, the United States confirmed a 12.5% tariff on Australian exports, arguing that enforcement is not strict enough regarding goods produced using forced labor; the Australian government filed a formal objection and said it does not see “credible evidentiary grounds” for such a move. Australian business reporters directly link this to the “America First” direction and warn that the U.S. is becoming more isolationist—meaning the damage will be two-way, but will hit Australian exporters harder. (abc.net.au)

In Australia, tariffs have also become a symbol of a broader psychological shift. According to a Lowy Institute survey, only 31% of Australians now believe that the United States will “act responsibly in the world,” while trust in Donald Trump in world affairs has fallen to 21%—the lowest level for any U.S. president in the history of this study. At the same time, 73% still believe that the American alliance is important for the country’s security—so this is not a break but a painful disappointment: Australia remains dependent on the United States, but no longer trusts it the way it used to. Lowy researcher Charles Lyons-Johnson put it almost like a diagnosis: in his view, Australians have “strong aversion to Trumpism and its policies,” and in these conditions America becomes a “beneficiary” only in the sense that it is still seen as an unavoidable partner. (abc.net.au)

In South Korea, the same anxiety is expressed differently—through the question of whether the American security umbrella is even dependable when the United States both demands greater contributions and shows readiness to use the alliance as a tool of pressure. In recent months, Hankook, Dong-A and Maeil Kyungjae have written about a rebalancing of roles in defense, pushing for negotiations on transferring operational control, and about what Washington expects from Seoul in terms of greater responsibility— including rising defense spending and participation in allied operations. The editorial line is especially telling: when Maeil Kyungjae asks whether one can trust a Korean nuclear umbrella after Trump allows himself a dismissive tone toward Taiwan, the newspaper effectively moves Korean fear beyond any single incident—the question is no longer just about Taiwan, but whether East Asian security might become a bargaining chip in American deals with China. (mk.co.kr)

Even more sharply, this sense has surfaced in the story of the “Freedom Project” and the Strait of Hormuz. Korean media wrote that Trump effectively pushed Seoul to take part in an operation tied to the security of sea routes, and the South Korean government responded cautiously, citing international law, regional security, and domestic procedures. In Korean editorial commentary, something close to resentment comes through: “America makes the mistake, but the bill is paid again by the allies.” The phrasing is not only about the Middle East, but also about a new self-perception among Korea’s elite: the United States no longer looks like a guarantor of order, but rather like a partner capable of pulling an ally into risk without bearing the full cost. (chosun.com)

The Russian discussion about the United States, by contrast, is almost entirely tied to Ukraine and negotiations. Foreign Minister Sergey Lavrov said that Washington has “partly lost interest and enthusiasm” in settling the Ukrainian situation, and that it increasingly seems to be telling Europe to handle it itself while the United States switches its focus to China. Yuri Ushakov said that Russia discussed military assistance to Kyiv with Americans and will continue doing so, and also that Moscow has not yet received a response to its warnings about strikes on Kyiv. In the Russian interpretation, this looks not just like a diplomatic pause, but like a sign that either the United States is tired of the Ukraine file, or it is trying to manage it remotely and without full responsibility. (interfax.ru)

The plot around the “Ankara/Anchoridge understandings” is especially important here—Russian sources increasingly reduce the American position to the question of who derailed a possible compromise and why now Washington is being asked for clarity. RBC quotes Maria Zakharova saying that Russia expects the United States to clarify the situation regarding these understandings before discussing new ideas on Ukraine; Lavrov, for his part, links Kyiv’s skepticism toward American proposals to the fact that Ukraine is being “supplied with weapons,” and a significant part of that support is American. Russia’s logic here is consistent: the United States remains a central player, but precisely because of that it is they that are held responsible for why the peace process is stuck. (amp.rbc.ru)

There is also a third layer that connects all three countries: America as a source of strategic unpredictability. In Australia, it is read through AUKUS and tariffs; ABC directly writes that “AUKUS ties Australia to America’s actions, whether we like it or not,” and this is no longer just about purchasing submarines—it is about geopolitical dependence. In South Korea, a similar fear is expressed through defense partnerships and the prospect of expanding Seoul’s military role. In Russia, unpredictability is discussed with diplomatic irritation: informal and confidential contacts can be made with Washington, but there is still no clear result. In all three cases, the United States is perceived not as a stable architect of order, but as a power that changes the rules while the game is in progress. (abc.net.au)

The most interesting local feature is that each country draws its own conclusion from this. South Korea does not break with America; instead, it tries to bargain for a more predictable alliance and protection from tariffs, turning the debate about the United States into a dispute over industrial policy, defense, and technological sovereignty. Australia still clings to the alliance, but it is now speaking in the language of lost trust and something close to everyday annoyance: the alliance matters, yet Trump’s America seems less and less reliable and increasingly selfish. Russia, meanwhile, uses American inconsistency as an argument in its own diplomatic line, showing that Washington is both needed and not worthy of trust. That is why the common international backdrop now looks so similar, even as reactions differ: for some, the United States is a risk to exports; for others, a risk to security; and for a third group, a risk to negotiations. (abc.net.au)

❮ ❯

America Through the Eyes of Seoul, Canberra and Kyiv: Tariffs, Alliance Politics and Worry Over the...

In South Korea, Australia and Ukraine, talk about the United States is not now revolving around an abstract idea of “American power,” but around a very specific question: what exactly Washington is doing with allies, trade and security—and how much longer the world will have to adjust to a new American line. In the South Korean press, the main topic has become tariffs and their consequences for exports and negotiations with Washington; in Australia, it’s the tariff war and a broader fear that an alliance with the United States under Donald Trump is becoming less predictable; in Ukraine, it’s the NATO summit, military support, and Trump’s attitude toward Russia and European security. (seoul.co.kr)

In South Korea, the tone of the discussion is noticeably practical and almost accountant-like: local media read American policy through the line of future losses and gains. After the Trump administration announced a “forced labor tariff” of 12.5% for South Korea, while Seoul publicly insisted that the previously agreed 15% ceiling should be maintained, Korean newspapers and business outlets began to treat the United States less as a partner to be approved of and more as something to be hedged against. In this same vein, Seoul Shinmun and Maeil Business Newspaper link U.S. pressure to the wider framework of trade, noting that Washington is again using trade tools as a geopolitical lever rather than simply as an economic measure. (seoul.co.kr)

What is especially telling is that, in Korean commentary, the United States is seen not only as a source of risk, but also as a market of opportunities. The same discussions about tariffs coexist with analysis of the U.S. request related to Korean shipbuilding. In Seoul, people write that the United States is not simply looking for ships from Koreans, but for a “system”—design, production discipline and supply-chain management, meaning what America would want to import along with the end product. In this reading, the United States looks like a country that both pressures with tariffs and borrows others’ industrial competence; hence the dual Korean reaction—irritation at American protectionism combined with cold calculations about how to monetize the American deficit in capacity. (mk.co.kr)

The Australian lens is different in tone but similar in substance. There, the United States is discussed mainly as an ally still needed, yet increasingly behaving as if alliance is a one-sided obligation. In July, ABC News reported in detail that Trump’s tariffs have already created additional uncertainty for Australia, and that the decision to impose a 12.5% duty on Australian exports to the United States is being framed as part of a broader “wall” of protectionism. In Australian analysis, this is not just a dispute about trade: it is a question of whether America remains the guarantor of an open system or is turning into a country that uses the market like a whip. (abc.net.au)

But even more important for Australia than the tariffs themselves is Trump’s political psychology. Local analysts and commentators increasingly write that “special relations” with the United States no longer mean special protection. ABC News directly linked the rise in Australian skepticism to the fact that much of society believes Trump’s second term will be bad for Australia; and in another analysis it was emphasized that Canberra is trying to stay close to Washington without looking “in love” with Trump. Even the American alliance here is described not as a sacred constant, but as a fragile balance between strategic necessity and electoral toxicity. This is a rare kind of honesty for an ally: Australia is not arguing over whether it needs the United States, but asks more and more loudly whether it needs that kind of United States. (abc.net.au)

Ukraine’s reaction is perhaps the most emotionally loaded and the most strategically nervous. Here, the United States is read through the prism of war, NATO, and how far Trump is willing to go in pressuring allies and in concessions to Russia. In July, Ukrainska Pravda described the NATO summit in Ankara as a moment when Trump again demonstrated his dissatisfaction with the Alliance and allowed for a reduction of America’s presence in Europe—and as a forum where Europeans tried to incorporate Ukraine into a new defense architecture without illusions about Washington’s reliability. At the same time, a harsher Ukrainian “nerve” was also voiced: in columns and podcasts, local commentators say that Trump is useful to Ukraine at least because he “cures it of illusions”—in other words, he forces Kyiv and Europeans to build security as if American assistance were no longer endless. (pravda.com.ua)

And yet the Ukrainian discussion does not boil down to disappointment. It is far more nuanced: in the same publications, it is emphasized that NATO at the Ankara summit promised to significantly increase military support for Ukraine, and Volodymyr Zelensky spoke about Trump’s backing for strengthening pressure on Russia. That means the local interpretation of the United States oscillates between two images: America as an inconsistent, sometimes dangerous political actor, and America as an indispensable center of pressure on Moscow. Precisely because of this duality, Ukrainian texts pick up nuances particularly carefully—not only what Trump said, but the mood in which he said it, and how much that changes the balance between Kyiv, Europe and the Kremlin. (interfax.com.ua)

If these three countries are reduced to a common denominator, the main object of reaction is not “America, in general,” but America as a source of unpredictability. South Korea worries that U.S. trade policy can instantly change the rules of the game for exports and industrial cooperation. Australia worries that the United States no longer looks like an unconditional keeper of the liberal trade order, and may punish even a close ally. Ukraine worries that the fate of its security depends on American political will—while under Trump that will looks less hostile than capricious and transactional. In this sense, in Seoul, Canberra and Kyiv today, the United States is seen as a superpower you cannot turn away from—but one you can no longer trust by inertia alone. (seoul.co.kr)

There is also a subtler shared theme: in all three countries, the United States is increasingly seen not just as policy, but as an example of systemic self-reinvention—sometimes frightening. Koreans discuss America’s demand for their shipbuilding alongside new tariffs; Australians discuss tariffs and “red lines” in the alliance; Ukrainians discuss NATO, the war and the limits of American support. And everywhere behind it stands the same question: if Washington changes the rules faster than allies can adapt, then who today is actually setting the rules for global stability? That is why current foreign reactions to the United States are no longer simply news about Trump—they are a collective diagnosis of an era in which America has again become a source of uncertainty and a worrying force behind a reshuffling of the order. (mk.co.kr)

❮ ❯

Waiting for Sharp Moves: Trade, Markets and Fear of a New Standoff

Against the backdrop of talk about possible changes in American politics in the era of Trump, nervousness has intensified in both political and business circles. At the center of attention is the logic of “signals” coming from the United States: how exactly they are reflected in international relations, whether they provoke escalation, and whether they could become a cause of turbulence in trade and finance. Chinese commentators increasingly emphasize that any slide into a Cold War logic is not only a political risk, but also a factor that can shake the economy through investor expectations and the dynamics of deals. At the same time, reactions to market fluctuations and unpredictable turns in American data or in the wording of U.S. decisions are being discussed: markets, it seems, are still trying to guess the next step, and this raises the cost of mistakes. In the overall mood, there is a call for de-escalation and more sober calculation of consequences—because the fallout from yet another round of “sharp” maneuvers can quickly go beyond bilateral relations and affect global stability. This piece is based on publications by www.guancha.cn (China).

In China, they believe the United States is tired of the new Cold War

Chinese commentary saw in the latest signals from Washington not just a possible pause in the confrontation, but evidence of a deeper shift: according to this logic, the United States has begun to tire of the path toward a “new Cold War” and is being forced to soften its line toward Beijing. The basis for this conclusion was a report in Western media noting that Donald Trump’s team is seeking to reduce tensions with China, and that American youth increasingly supports a hardline confrontation less.

As Guancha writes, after Trump’s return to the White House, the emphasis on high tariffs and pressure on China did not “shake” the PRC; instead, it hit the U.S. economy and ultimately pushed Washington to back off. In the Chinese reading, this matters not only as an assessment of a specific Trump policy, but also as a broader ideological conclusion: the United States is no longer seen as an all-powerful rival, but as a power that runs up against the limits of its own strength and must take into account the reality of China’s rise.

The article emphasizes that, despite the hard anti-China rhetoric of some American politicians, Trump is allegedly seeking ways to ease relations with Beijing. The Chinese interpretation is built around the thesis that the United States cannot achieve a “decisive victory” over China, and therefore sooner or later it will be forced to seek compromise. For the Chinese audience, this looks like confirmation that the policy of long-term containment of the PRC is encountering objective constraints.

Particular attention is paid to American polling showing a weakening of hostility toward China, especially among young people. According to Pew Research Center, the share of Americans calling China an “enemy” fell from 42% to 28%. According to the Searchlight Institute, 62% of Americans aged 18 to 34 want cooperation and improved relations with the PRC. In Zoomer poll materials, most respondents also believe that economic ties between the United States and China are beneficial. In the Chinese reading, these figures become not just sociology, but a political argument: if pragmatism is growing even within the United States, the idea of a long-term anti-China mobilization loses its staying power.

The article also cites the position of Crisis Group analyst Ali Vain, who in Financial Times wrote that Trump wants to improve relations with China and that American youth does not want a “new Cold War.” The Chinese outlet uses this external quote as additional confirmation of its line: even Western experts acknowledge that public demand in the United States is changing and that willingness for harsh confrontation is declining.

For China, such a signal carries several meanings at once. First, it confirms that the trade war and tariff pressure did not break the Chinese economy; instead, they created costs for the United States itself. Second, it shows that attempts by Washington to form an anti-China consensus are running up against public fatigue and generational skepticism. Third, it weakens previous expectations about the inevitability of a new Cold War, although of course the risk of confrontation does not disappear entirely. And finally, it reinforces China’s image as a force even American presidents—including Trump—feel compelled to take into account.

At a deeper level, texts like this fit well into China’s historical memory of external pressure, sanctions, and attempts at “containment.” They easily align with the official narrative about China’s inevitable growth and the need to preserve strategic patience. Culturally, such an article resonates with the idea of international politics as a long contest, where endurance, pragmatism, and the ability to withstand pressure from a stronger opponent matter.

That is why, in Chinese media space, any cracks in the American anti-China consensus are perceived not just as news about a possible thaw. It is presented as evidence that the United States is being forced to adapt to a new reality created by China’s economic and technological weight.

❮ ❯

America as a common irritant: renewed debate over tariffs, power and reliability in Turkey, Russia and...

In recent weeks, in three very different countries — Turkey, Russia and Australia — discussion about the United States has surprisingly often shifted away from abstract “American politics” to a very practical question: can Washington still be considered a predictable partner? In the Australian press this is visible in two lines at once: a fresh Lowy Institute study showing trust in the United States has fallen to a record-low level, and a series of ABC analytical pieces on tariffs and Donald Trump’s foreign-policy line. In the Turkish debate, NATO, F-35s, sanctions and trade caution dominate amid talks in Ankara. In Russia — sanctions pressure, tariff threats, and discussion of how Trump tries to squeeze both allies, BRICS and Moscow at the same time. (abc.net.au)

The common nerve running through these discussions is a trade war and protectionism. In Turkey, business and analytical circles describe Trump’s tariff policy as a risk, but also as a window of opportunity: Anadolu Ajansı cites assessments that Turkish businesses must quickly calculate the consequences of new U.S. duties and, at the same time, use the comparatively softer tariff regime toward Turkey as a chance to strengthen their export positions. In one of the comments, Chairman of the ShEQİB Awdaği — ShəkiB Awdagich? — actually said that “dünyа ekonomik düzeni… tekrar korumacılığa” — that is, the world economy is once again moving toward protectionism, meaning businesses have to restructure their strategy. In Russia, the tone is similar but with a different emphasis: TASS and Российская газета write not about opportunities, but about a global fault line, linking Trump’s tariffs to the dismantling of the previous model of globalization and to a new phase of pressure on global supply chains. One of RG’s experts notes that, in his view, the Russian economy has already adapted to restrictions, so the United States is effectively launching a new economic experiment with an unclear outcome. In Australia, the tariff theme lands especially painfully because it is discussed not as some distant abstraction, but as a direct blow to exporters: ABC reports that Washington introduced a 12.5% tariff on Australian exports, and that businesses fear reduced investment and rising costs. (aa.com.tr)

The second major storyline is the reliability of the United States as an ally. In Australia, this is perhaps the most noticeable public nerve: according to Lowy Institute, only 31% of Australians believe the United States will “act responsibly in the world,” and trust in President Trump has hit a historic low. At the same time, the same poll highlights an important detail: despite declining trust in Washington, 73% of Australians still believe the alliance with the United States is important for the country’s security. This helps explain the ambivalence of Australian coverage: on the one hand, ABC and Prime Minister Anthony Albanese himself say that with Trump in office, America is “playing a different role” and moving away from the usual pro-market and pro-alliance model; on the other, Canberra does not want to break the alliance and instead prefers a “disciplined” and cautious adaptation. Albanese, speaking on ABC, puts it without diplomatic lacework: because of “America first,” Australia and other middle powers are banding together more closely. (abc.net.au)

Turkey’s reaction to the same issue is more institutional and less emotional. After the NATO summit in Ankara, Turkish analytical outlets like AA wrote that relations between Turkey and the United States could open “a new page,” if the most painful issues shift — CAATSA sanctions, the C-400 issue, and the fate of the F-35. An important detail here is that Turkish texts do not present the U.S. as an “unreliable ally in general,” but rather as a party with which a deal is possible if the balance of power in NATO changes. In AA’s article about the summit, it notes that Trump’s statements about lifting sanctions on Turkey and the possible review of F-35 already created expectations that the defense impasse could be unblocked. A European expert close to this storyline, Director of the European Neighbourhood Council Festerbey, told AA that the summit became a “big win” for Turkey–U.S. relations. In other words, the Turkish view is not about a break, but about pragmatically restoring a channel through security and the defense industry. (aa.com.tr)

The third topic that clearly ties all three countries together is American foreign policy as a source of unpredictability, especially in the context of war, Iran and Ukraine. In Russia, this storyline is almost inevitably read through sanctions and ultimatums. TASS cites and comments on Trump’s July statement about “50 days” for a deal on Ukraine and the threat of secondary tariffs against Russia; it also emphasizes that an even tougher package is under consideration in Congress — up to 500% duties. For Russia’s expert community, this is not just another piece of news, but a sign that Washington is trying to combine economic pressure with political coercion. In another TASS column, it is stated outright that Trump prefers tariffs to sanctions as a tool for pushing Moscow toward an outcome it finds unacceptable. It is also telling that even when Russian rhetoric is sharp, it is often infused with a calculating tone: the point is not panic, but waiting to see where the American threat is just a facade and where it is a real instrument. (tass.ru)

In Australia, the same phenomenon is interpreted through Iran and through the reproach that the United States makes decisions without allies. ABC reported that Trump criticized Canberra for not providing enough help in the conflict around the Strait of Hormuz, and then in Australian debate Albanese himself called his rhetoric “inappropriate for a United States president.” What is especially interesting is that local criticism is not anti-American in the direct sense: it is not aimed at the alliance as such, but at the American way of acting without consultation — that is, against the style of power. Australian commentators talk about Trump’s “cryptonite” in local politics: publicly aligning with him is electorally toxic, but it is impossible to fully distance from the United States. That is why Canberra chooses a strange but very telling strategy — less worship, more cold pragmatism. (abc.net.au)

If all of this is brought together into a single picture, it is not simply dissatisfaction with a specific U.S. president, but a broader international disappointment with American predictability. Turkey sees Washington primarily as a negotiator with whom you can bargain if the balance shifts in NATO and in the defense industry. Russia sees the source of sanctions pressure and trade-politics blackmail that, according to local commentators, itself accelerates the dismantling of the previous world order. Australia sees an ally it has to stay close to even when trust in it falls to record lows. And it is precisely this similarity that makes the current wave of discussion so significant: in three countries, very differently but increasingly often, people are talking about the same thing — the United States is no longer perceived as automatically the stable center of the system. It remains strong, but its strength is now read as a risk factor rather than only a guarantee. (abc.net.au)

❮ ❯

The US under the spotlight: how China, Australia and Germany read Washington through tariffs, cracks...

In recent days, in China, Australia and Germany, talk about the United States has been revolving around one big knot: a new wave of American tariffs and trade pressure, to which local commentators attach a much wider question—how predictable the US is as a partner, and how long allies and rivals are willing to live amid constant American political turbulence. In the Chinese press, this is presented as another example of Washington’s unilateral and protectionist course; in Australia, as a blow to the long-standing “special” nature of the alliance; in Germany, as a symptom of the US’s strategic unreliability—even as Berlin continues to stress historical gratitude and the need for transatlantic connectivity. (global.chinadaily.com.cn)

The most general theme linking all three countries is Trump’s tariffs and what they are already being perceived as—less separate trade measures and more a constant style of governance. In Beijing, the official line is delivered harshly, without diplomatic embellishment: Lin Jian, a spokesperson for China’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs, said that China “opposes all forms of unilateral tariff measures,” and that, in his words, trade wars “serve the interests of neither side.” This is not simply a response to yet another package of duties; Chinese publications use it to show that Washington is building “more durable tariff architecture”—a system, as China Daily writes, that preserves the levers of pressure even after temporary measures disappear. This view matters: in the Chinese interpretation, the US is not protecting the economy—it is trying to institutionalize uncertainty. (global.chinadaily.com.cn)

It is at this point that the Chinese reaction becomes not only defensive, but also instructive. China Daily writes that tariffs may raise costs, but “cannot easily change the mutually beneficial nature of Sino-US economic relations.” This is a typical move in official Chinese analysis: not to deny the conflict, but to claim that long-term interdependence is still stronger than political noise. The People’s Daily goes even further, calling the new tariff wave the “三宗罪”—a triple fault—and describing it as an instrument of economic pressure concealed under the banner of law. For China’s domestic audience, this is not only criticism of the US, but also confirmation of a broader idea: Washington does not act according to rules, but according to political expediency. (global.chinadaily.com.cn)

The Australian discussion of the same tariffs is far less ideological, but in some ways even more worrying. In Canberra, the reaction is built around a practical question: if the United States imposes tariffs even on its closest partners, what does an alliance even mean? ABC News reported that the Trump administration confirmed a new 12.5% tariff on Australia, and that the country’s government, in a formal filing, “reiterated its opposition” to these measures. According to ABC, Australia’s ambassador to the US, Greg Moriarty, said there would be “robust negotiations”—tough talks needed to fend off the new tariffs. But behind the dry diplomacy there is a deeper doubt: if even an ally is forced to constantly “push back” against Washington’s moves, then an alliance stops being background and becomes a problem in itself. (abc.net.au)

In Australia, another motive also matters: disappointment not only with politics, but with American leadership itself. ABC wrote that Prime Minister Anthony Albanese’s frustration with Trump-era America is growing, describing it as acting “playing a different role in world,” and linking this to tariffs, the war in Iran, and the broader logic of “America First.” As ABC quotes Albanese, he emphasized that Australia and other middle powers have become “band together more closely”—that is, seeking more coordination beyond the US. This is very much an Australian twist: not a break with America, but quiet preparation for a world in which the White House can no longer be fully relied upon. (abc.net.au)

In Germany, the same tariff storyline is colored differently: here the dispute is not so much about trade damage as about the political reliability of the US as the pillar of Europe’s security and economy. Tagesschau reported that the new American tariffs affect 60 trading partners and again put at risk predictability for German companies and the EU. In an ARD commentary on Friedrich Merz’s visit to Trump, the phrase was used that there is no alternative to the US “als Sicherheitsgarant” for Germany “bis auf Weiteres keine”—none, for the time being. But this forced acknowledgment is accompanied by growing irritation: German materials increasingly express the idea that under Trump, the US remains indispensable yet becomes less and less trustworthy. (tagesschau.de)

It is especially telling that in Germany tariffs are discussed not only as an economic risk, but also as an attack on the country’s very industrial model. Tagesschau quoted experts saying that Trump’s measures hit German car manufacturers particularly hard and that the US president may use tariffs for domestic popularity in America, “auf Kosten Europas”—at Europe’s expense. Economist Marcel Fratzscher, as Tagesschau presents him, directly linked the tariff line to American domestic politics, which is an extremely important turn for a German reader: Europe is no longer seen as a partner, but rather as a resource for an American election campaign. (tagesschau.de)

But Germany has a second, more symbolic storyline too—the 250th anniversary of the United States. Unexpectedly, it became a повод not only for congratulations, but for self-reflection. Debates were held in the Bundestag in which gratitude to the US for liberating Germany after Nazism was voiced alongside concern about the current polarization of American society. In a survey by NDR in the country’s northwest, 91% of respondents in the region said relations between Germany and the US are bad, while 90% said they have a negative view of the US itself. This is no longer just dissatisfaction with Trump; it is a sign that, in German society, the American image is increasingly breaking into two opposing parts: the historical America of freedom and today’s America of chaos. (bundestag.de)

Interestingly, it is in Germany that this anniversary-related American storyline has risen to something close to a philosophical debate. Deutschlandfunk recalled that anti-Americanism in the country has its own history, and that Trump, according to historian Volker Depkat, is merely fanning old prejudices. In SZ and tagesschau, the anniversary of the US was described as a possible “verpasste Chance”—a missed opportunity for a divided country to rethink itself. In Germany’s local reading, America today looks not only like an ally and not only like a problem, but like a mirror in which Germany sees its own fears: about the possible breakdown of the political center and about whether democratic institutions can withstand pressure from populism. (deutschlandfunk.de)

If you reduce the three countries to a common denominator, you get a curious picture. China sees the US first and foremost as a source of unilateral pressure and trade coercion; Australia sees it as an ally that has suddenly become unpredictable, forcing doubt about the very architecture of the alliance; Germany sees it as historically necessary yet increasingly politically troubling power that it has to live with for reasons of security and the economy, even as trust in it clearly declines. In all three countries, the US is being discussed not as a usual great power, but as a state whose internal decisions immediately turn into international nervousness. And this, perhaps, is the main international storyline of the moment: the world is talking less and less about the US in terms of individual issues, and more and more trying to understand what kind of America it is dealing with at all. (global.chinadaily.com.cn)

❮ ❯

The US as a mirror of anxiety: how Ukraine, Russia and Germany read American politics

In recent weeks, talk about the United States in Ukraine, Russia and Germany has been revolving around the same nerves: Donald Trump, Russia’s war against Ukraine, American tariffs, and a broader question as well—whether Washington can still be considered a reliable pillar of European security. But the emphasis in the three countries differs. In Ukraine, the US is discussed primarily as an ally that can pressure Kyiv into concessions to Moscow; in Russia—as a force, according to local commentators, trying to find a way out of foreign-policy deadlocks and to bargain on Ukraine and other crises; in Germany—as an unpredictable partner whose trade and military line pushes Berlin toward strategic autonomy. This very combination of anxiety, skepticism and forced pragmatism is currently shaping the international picture of how America is perceived. (eurointegration.com.ua)

The strongest common theme is Ukraine and the figure of Trump. In Kyiv, American policy is increasingly seen not as a guaranteed shield, but as a source of pressure. According to the KМИС, more than half of Ukrainians believe that the US is pushing Ukraine toward concessions to Russia, and in a January poll 74% said Trump’s presidency is bad for Ukraine. Ukrainian outlets and analysts link this to the fact that in the final text of the Paris Declaration, promises of US support for multinational forces in Ukraine disappeared, and Washington’s tone began to look more conditional and transactional. Against this backdrop, it is especially noticeable how the Ukrainian press tries not only to read the statements, but also the political mechanics behind US decisions—for example, in a piece by Ukrayinska Pravda about Zelensky’s visit to Washington, it is emphasized that talk of Patriot licenses and new ideas matters precisely because Kyiv can no longer rely on the automatic nature of American support. (eurointegration.com.ua)

In Russia, the same storyline is presented almost in a mirror image, but with a different conclusion. There, American policy on Ukraine is often interpreted as recognition of the limits of US power. In a column on RT, political scientist Dmitry Evstafyev writes directly that, in his view, Trump understands that Ukraine “has lost the war,” and therefore the conversation is no longer about principles, but about how to extract benefits from a “discarded asset”—a distinctly Russian perspective in which war and diplomacy are described in the language of a deal and geopolitical bargaining. Similar motives also appear in reports about Putin and Trump’s phone talks: Russian media stress that Moscow and Washington are allegedly seeking “common approaches,” and that the obstacle to peace is portrayed primarily as Kyiv and its unwillingness to accept the Kremlin’s demands. Even when Russian publications cite Western polls about Trump’s falling approval ratings, they use this as an argument about the weakness of Washington’s course and the White House’s vulnerability on the domestic front. (russian.rt.com)

In Germany, the American theme sounds different—not as a question of Ukraine’s survival, but as a question of the reliability of the transatlantic link. German media and commentators increasingly write that with Trump, the US stopped being a predictable anchor. In a tagesschau commentary on Friedrich Merz’s visit to Trump, it is stated outright that Germany has “no alternative for the time being” to the US as a security guarantor; yet the tone of the text itself shows that it is no longer confidence, but a forced recognition of dependency. In another German analytical piece after the Munich conference, it is emphasized that pressure on Germany and Europe has not decreased—it has only grown. This is also visible in public opinion: NDR and tagesschau note that for many residents of northern Germany, attitudes toward the US have become critical, and trust in America under Trump has noticeably declined. German editorial texts do not merely criticize Trump; they draw a practical lesson from his behavior: Europe needs more independence in defense and fewer illusions about American stability. (tagesschau.de)

The second major theme is trade wars and tariffs. Here Germany reacts especially sharply because for its export economy, the US market is critically important. Tagesschau wrote that about 10% of German exports go to the United States, and therefore Trump’s tariff threats are perceived as a direct blow to industry. At the same time, German economic materials note that the US’s tough tariff policy is already hitting not only American markets but also the US economy itself; however, in Germany this does not lead to calm—rather, it strengthens the sense that Washington is ready to play with increasing the stakes even at the cost of allied relations. This storyline also appears in the Ukrainian press, but as a side issue compared to the war: Kyiv reads US tariff policy through a broader crisis of Western coordination, not as an independent topic. In Russia, meanwhile, the US’s trade line is often used to demonstrate that America is losing the ability to run the global system without costs to itself. (tagesschau.de)

The third theme is Trump himself as a symptom of American internal instability. In Germany and Russia, polls about the low approval rating of the US president are quoted with interest, but interpreted differently. In German analysis, low support for Trump becomes proof that the US is polarized and therefore less reliable as a partner; in Russian interpretation, it is an argument that Trump is driving the country into a dead end and is compensating for internal problems with foreign-policy gestures. Ukrainian publications read the American internal struggle even more pragmatically: if the White House is unstable, then any guarantee becomes conditional—meaning Kyiv urgently needs to expand its support base in Europe and its own defense capabilities. A particularly telling Ukrainian text describes how Trump’s policy changed Ukrainians’ attitude toward NATO: expectations that the US would automatically remain the alliance’s leader weakened, while hope for European strategic autonomy, by contrast, increased. (kommersant.ru)

If you put these reactions together into one picture, an interesting paradox emerges. Ukraine, Russia and Germany look at the US not as an abstract superpower, but as a source of very concrete consequences: for Kyiv, military assistance and the risk of coercion; for Moscow, room for bargaining and an attempt to prove the limits of American might; for Berlin, a balance between security, trade and the need to emancipate from Washington. And despite all the differences in tone, all three countries share a common denominator: Trump’s America looks less predictable than America of previous years. That is why behind the dry news about meetings, polls or tariffs, a deeper anxiety can be read today—not only about what the US will do next, but about whether American policy itself remains the core on which one can still rely. (eurointegration.com.ua)

❮ ❯

How Saudi Arabia, Russia and China Are Arguing About America Today: tariffs, Iran and the new...

The most noticeable discussions about the United States in Saudi Arabia, Russia and China today are not focused on an abstract “American policy,” but on three very specific focal points: American pressure through tariffs and sanctions; the role of Washington in Middle East security after the Iran war; and whether the United States remains a reliable partner in a world that is increasingly perceived as fragmented and conflict-prone. This is evident both in official statements and in analytical columns and editorial assessments by local media: in China, the tone is set by themes of “unilateral measures” and the trade war; in Russia, it is sanctions pressure and the strategic Moscow–Beijing pairing against U.S. containment policy; and in Saudi Arabia, it is both pragmatic partnership with the United States and a cautious calculation regarding the U.S.-Iran settlement and nuclear cooperation with Washington. (globaltimes.cn)

If we look at the Chinese debate, the main irritant is not so much Donald Trump himself as the logic of American economic and technological policy itself. Official Beijing and Chinese state media describe U.S. tariffs again and again as “unilateral” and contrary to international rules, while new levies are framed as a source of chaos and unpredictability for global trade. At the end of February, China’s trade reaction directly linked American decisions to rule-breaking and harm to all sides, and in April and July, China’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs and Chinese experts again emphasized that sanctions against buyers of Iranian oil—along with secondary sanctions targeting Chinese companies—constitute unlawful extraterritorial pressure that Beijing does not recognize. (globaltimes.cn)

It is especially telling that in the Chinese press the United States is often discussed not as the “center of the world system,” but as a source of instability, forcing the PRC to strengthen its own autonomy and deepen external ties outside the American orbit. In Global Times, Chinese experts wrote that the U.S. tariff policy is failing even by Washington’s own standards, because the U.S. trade deficit is expanding rather than shrinking; another article stressed that Washington’s moves are pushing China toward tougher protection against secondary sanctions and toward activating retaliatory measures. At the same time, within China’s editorial logic, Russian-Chinese rapprochement is presented as a “signal of stability” in a turbulent world—meaning that America indirectly serves as a backdrop for demonstrating a more reliable alternative. (globaltimes.cn)

In Russian discussions, the tone is similar but the emphasis is different: the American “problem” is read there primarily as a problem of pressure and coercion. In the past weeks, Kommersant and TASS have shown that Moscow and Russian analysts view the United States as a country that does not so much “negotiate” as combine sanctions, tariff threats and political pressure—including against those states that continue to buy Russian oil and gas. Russian texts about new bills in Washington describe them as a mechanism aimed not only at Russia, but also at China and India; alongside this, Russian business and foreign-policy outlets are noting that American business does not see any real easing of sanctions pressure, despite rhetoric about normalization of relations. (kommersant.ru)

At the same time, Russia’s response to the United States is not limited to defense. Increasingly, it is built around the idea that it is precisely American harshness that accelerates the formation of tighter Russian-Chinese coordination. Kommersant writes directly that the U.S. and China remain locked in a conflictual bundle over tariffs, sanctions, Taiwan, Iran and Ukraine, while Russia in this new triangle turns out to be a “third party.” In TASS there is also a harsher formulation: Russian and Chinese analysts describe the Moscow–Beijing axis as an element of a new global balance capable of creating a multipolar order alternative to American hegemony. In other words, in the Russian context, the United States is discussed not only as a rival, but also as an unwitting architect of closer ties between Russia and China. (kommersant.ru)

Saudi Arabia looks at America quite differently. Here, the United States is still viewed as a key partner in security and diplomacy, but the attitude is not romantic—it is strictly transactional. After contacts between Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman and Donald Trump, Saudi media highlighted that Riyadh and Washington are discussing not only bilateral ties, but also regional stability, navigation, and U.S. contacts with Iran. In June and July, Saudi official and semi-official sources emphasized that the kingdom welcomes diplomatic settlement between the U.S. and Iran because, for it, the freedom of navigation in the Strait of Hormuz and reducing the risk of a new war are critical. (arabnews.com)

But it is precisely in Saudi discourse that a paradox is especially visible: America is needed both as a guarantor and as an object of caution. The most important topic in recent weeks is an agreement on the peaceful use of nuclear energy between Saudi Arabia and the United States. Arab News and Al Riyadh describe it as a major strategic breakthrough, emphasizing that it strengthens economic resilience, local production and the goals of Vision 2030, and also builds trust between the two countries. Even in positive materials, however, “difficult questions” are raised—ranging from political conditions to possible risks and the role of U.S. domestic politics. In other words, in Saudi reactions to the United States, it is not just an ally, but a provider of strategic technology with which Riyadh is trying to strike a deal on terms that are as beneficial and safe for itself as possible. (alriyadh.com)

The common denominator across these three countries is still there: American policy is now, almost everywhere, read through the lens of predictability. In China, the United States looks like a source of tariff and technological coercion; in Russia, it looks like the center of a sanctions system and military pressure; in Saudi Arabia, it looks like a necessary but demanding partner that must be kept within an agreement—not trusted unconditionally. Interestingly, even where the tone is more positive—such as in Saudi texts about the nuclear agreement—positivity is not built on ideological sympathy for America, but on calculation: does Washington bring stability, investment, access to technology, and a lower risk of war? This is a very modern, almost cold way of looking at the United States—not as a symbol, but as a factor of risk or benefit. (arabnews.com)

The most interesting hidden line—easy to miss if you read only American press—is that the United States today is unwittingly bringing together very different foreign-policy cultures through their reaction to itself. Chinese editors talk about protection from unilateralism; Russians talk about resisting sanctions coercion and strengthening an alternative center of power; Saudi commentators talk about insuring their own security and modernizing through selective cooperation. As a result, America remains the main topic on the international agenda not because everyone is admiring it, but because almost all major players are forced to rebuild their strategies around American unpredictability. (globaltimes.cn)

❮ ❯

How countries around the world are reacting to the United States: Trump’s tariffs, distrust of...

In recent weeks in Brazil, India and Australia, discussion of the United States has surprisingly converged on the same theme: with Donald Trump in office, Washington is again making tariffs the main tool of foreign policy, and local commentators are arguing less about the tariff figures themselves than about what they say about the United States. In the Brazilian press, American measures against exports from Brazil are described as protectionism, masked by rhetoric about Pix, ethanol and the environment; in India, the reaction centers on “tariff architecture” and negotiations for a trade deal; in Australia, it is framed around harsh criticism of the “slavery tariff” and an increasingly colder attitude toward the United States in public opinion. The common nerve of these texts is this: America is more and more often seen not as a predictable guarantor of order, but as a major power ready to use access to its market as leverage. (www1.folha.uol.com.br)

The most striking common theme is a new kind of trade war in which the United States justifies tariffs by citing forced labor and “unfair” practices. In Brazil, this has triggered especially sharp pushback: Folha writes that Washington’s explanations—from Pix to the environment—look more like a “repertoire for legitimizing barriers” than like a trade analysis, and that the overall average effective U.S. tariff on Brazilian imports, according to the article’s authors, has risen to roughly 9.5%. In a column, Lula—recounted by UOL—called the new tariffs a mistake and warned that they would break supply chains and push Brazilian companies to replace American suppliers with other partners. For Brazil, what matters here is not only that the duty hits exports, but also that the United States justifies it with political and regulatory claims, including the dispute over social media and the Pix payment system. (www1.folha.uol.com.br)

In India, a similar logic is read through a more technocratic, but no less cautious, language. The Indian Express and Mint write that the United States is reshaping its tariff regime by dividing countries into two categories—10% and 12.5%—amid investigations into forced labor and excessive production capacity. The Indian Ministry of Commerce, Mint reports, is asking Washington to review the 12.5% tariff and emphasizes that Delhi prefers bilateral negotiations over unilateral measures; the same article cites positions from industry associations FICCI and CII, which warn that additional tariffs will hurt not only Indian exporters, but also American importers, retailers and consumers. This is an important Indian feature: the local reaction is not limited to outrage, but tries to show the United States that tariffs will damage Americans themselves. (livemint.com)

But behind the shared tariff narrative lie different national fears. For Brazil, American measures are also read as interference in the country’s political context: in the domestic agenda, a line keeps resurfacing that Trump introduced tariffs against the backdrop of conflicts involving former President Jair Bolsonaro and disputes over freedom of speech, and Brazilian authorities respond with tough rhetoric about the “unfairness” of U.S. actions. In a UOL piece, the government had previously described the possible tariff as “injustas” (unjust), and a presidential column notes that Brazil’s exports to the United States have fallen to their lowest level since 1997. This is no longer just a trade dispute: in Brazil, U.S. policy is seen as a mixture of geoeconomics and domestic political maneuvering. (noticias.uol.com.br)

India, meanwhile, views the same U.S. line through the prism of negotiation strategy and long-term sustainability. There, a more pragmatic argument is heard: even if the tariff is currently lower than competitors’ rates, it still changes the relative positions of exporters—especially in textiles and, in the longer term, in pharmaceuticals. Mint notes that India’s textile industry did not receive TRQ (tariff-rate quota) preferences and may lose to competitors such as Bangladesh and Cambodia, while possible future levies on generics create uncertainty for companies. In other words, India is debating not only punishment, but also how the United States, via tariffs, is reshuffling global supply chains. It is a more “economic” perspective than in Brazil, but the conclusion is similar: America is becoming a source of structural pressure rather than simply a trade partner. (livemint.com)

Australia’s reaction is arguably the most institutionally framed. ABC reports that Canberra filed an official objection to Trump’s plan to impose a 12.5% tariff, calling it unsupported by a “credible evidentiary basis” and contradicting the existing free-trade agreement. At the same time, the Washington formula itself—that the tariff is needed because insufficient action is being taken against forced labor in supply chains—sounds in Australia almost absurd, because this is an ally and a very close partner of the United States. Here, the reaction is less emotional than in Brazil, but harsher in form: not just criticism, but a legal challenge to Washington’s position. (abc.net.au)

The most intriguing split in Australia is between distrust of Trump and reluctance to give up the American alliance. According to the Lowy Institute, only 31% of Australians believe the United States will “act responsibly in the world,” and trust in Trump himself is even lower—21%. Researcher Charles Lyons-Jones told ABC that the country feels “strong distaste for Trumpism and his policy agenda,” and that Australians themselves do not approve of using tariffs as a way to compel other states. And yet 73% still say the alliance with the United States is important for Australia’s security. This may be the subtlest international takeaway from the current wave of U.S. policy: allies are not rushing to break with Washington, but America’s moral credit is clearly shrinking. (abc.net.au)

Against this backdrop, local voices in each country sound different, but they almost always boil down to the same warning: Trump’s trade measures have become a form of political language. In India, Joint Secretary Brij Mohan Mishra, at a public hearing, Mint reports, objected to the conclusions of the USTR and insisted that the country is already taking constructive steps against forced labor; in Australia, the ambassador and trade officials effectively dispute the evidentiary basis of the American decision itself; in Brazil, Lula, in his column, sets the American tariff pressure against the idea of diversifying partners and defending the country’s sovereign right to shape its own trade policy. The three countries speak in different words, but all three read the same thing: under Trump, the United States is not just setting trade rules—it is re-testing how ready the world is to accept American will as the norm. (livemint.com)

Looking broader still, this is where the most interesting international perspective emerges—one that is easy to miss in the American press. For Brazil, the United States looks like a power capable of mixing a trade dispute with political pressure; for India, it is a partner that needs to be constantly persuaded not to undermine the very architecture of mutual benefit; for Australia, it is an ally whose trust level among the public has fallen to a record low, but without which strategic security still seems incomplete. In other words, today’s reaction to America depends less and less on ideology and more and more on experience: countries are not judged by statements about the free market, but by how exactly the United States uses the power of its market. (abc.net.au)

❮ ❯

Europe and Ukraine increasingly view the US through Trump, Iran and NATO

In July–August 2026, in French, German and Ukrainian media, the United States is being discussed not as an abstract ally, but as a source of strategic uncertainty: the spotlight is on both the war and the negotiations over Iran, threats of new tariffs, doubts about NATO’s reliability, and the broader question of whether Washington can still be considered a predictable guarantor of European security. In France, this is described as historically low trust in the United States—and even as fear of a military threat from America; in Germany, as the painful realization that Berlin has no quick replacement for the American “umbrella”; in Ukraine, as direct anxiety about its own security and the future of NATO membership. (lemonde.fr)

The most visible shared theme is Iran and the style of American power. French analysts write that Paris fears a drawn-out crisis while being forced to take into account the fact that Washington is again playing at the edge of pressure and bargaining; in Le Monde, a French diplomatic source openly admits that “more than a bilateral conversation between Iran and the United States will be needed” to restore the system of control over the nuclear program. In Germany, the reaction is even sharper in tone: tagesschau quotes SWP political scientist Sascha Lomon, who sees Trump’s Iran policy as an expression of “strategic ambiguity,” while another commentary flatly claims that Trump “failed” to achieve his goals in Iran. The German debate is not only about the Middle East, however: it also emphasizes that American actions create legal and moral questions for Berlin—especially if US operations affect the Ramstein base. (lemonde.fr)

The second cross-cutting line is NATO and trust in American guarantees. Here the Ukrainian reaction is the most tense and the most practical. Ukrainian outlets regularly remind readers of Trump’s skepticism toward the alliance: Ukrainska Pravda and Ukrinform report his remarks that allies are “disloyal,” that the United States supposedly does not receive help from NATO, and that the question of Ukraine’s membership in the alliance remains blocked by a number of countries. In an interview with Ukrainska Pravda, former US Chargé d’Affaires George Kent says that the West and NATO must accelerate “deep discussions” not about Ukraine’s survival, but about how to help it win—an emphasis that reflects the Ukrainian demand for specifics rather than rhetoric. German media reads this through its own security concerns: in tagesschau, commentators note that Germany “has no alternative” to the United States as a guarantor, even if relations with Washington under Trump remain strained and even accompanied by talk of withdrawing American troops. French authors, by contrast, increasingly frame it as a Europe sovereignty problem: one of the texts in Le Monde notes that French public opinion already considers the United States a possible “military threat” in the future, and an ECFR poll shows that Europeans’ trust in the US has fallen to a historic low. (pravda.com.ua)

The third theme is broader disenchantment with the political and institutional face of the United States. In France, this comes across especially strongly: Le Monde writes that Trump “saturates the political and media landscape,” and in France, by making internal issues suddenly seem secondary; they also point out that French politics—including debates ahead of the 2027 elections—has to respond to the American agenda. In Germany, the debate about the US increasingly concerns not only foreign policy, but also the internal condition of American democracy—from redrawing electoral districts to pressure on voters’ rights—which tagesschau describes as an attack on Martin Luther King’s legacy. In Ukraine, this motif is picked up particularly sharply: after polls and comments in local media, the idea takes hold that most Ukrainians view Trump’s presidency negatively, and that Washington behaves as if help for Ukraine were an instrument of bargaining rather than an obligation of an ally. Even when Americans promise production licenses for missiles or discuss new support packages, the tone of Ukrainian commentary remains wary: what matters is not the gesture, but how durable it proves to be. (lemonde.fr)

There are also differences that clearly show the local optics. France more often talks about the US as a challenge to European autonomy and as the possibility of a strategic “divorce,” even if no one is suggesting a complete break; Germany sees it as an inevitable but uncomfortable partner, without which it is impossible to ensure defense; Ukraine sees it as a country whose unpredictability directly affects survival. That is why today’s common European thinking does not sound like anti-Americanism, but like a tense recalibration of expectations: the US remains the center of global power, but in Paris, Berlin and Kyiv people increasingly discuss what the United States does when it acts as an ally—and what the rest should do if that ally starts behaving like a factor of risk. (lemonde.fr)

❮ ❯

The United States as a source of anxiety and calculation: how Israel, Brazil and South Korea read...

In recent days, discussion of the United States in Israel, Brazil and South Korea has been revolving not around some abstract “American policy,” but around the same feeling: Washington has become tougher, less predictable, and far more transactional. In Brazil, this is above all trade pressure and tariffs—read there as political punishment; in South Korea, it’s signals that the alliance with the United States is increasingly turning into a deal about sharing the burden; in Israel, it’s fear that the U.S. strategy in the Middle East may push Tel Aviv to the sidelines precisely on issues Israel considers existential. And although the reasons differ, the underlying nervousness is strikingly similar: local commentators see the United States not so much as an unconditional guarantor, but as a powerful partner whose interests increasingly diverge from those of its allies. (www1.folha.uol.com.br)

The most noticeable common theme is trade and economic pressure from the United States. In Brazil, it has become the dominant storyline: local outlets analyze U.S. tariffs on Brazilian goods in detail, and columnists openly call them “unfair” and “illogical,” emphasizing that Brazil, meanwhile, does not run a trade surplus with the United States. In Folha de S.Paulo, this is presented not as a normal dispute over foreign trade, but as a symptom of a broader era of protectionism, in which Washington uses tariffs as a political tool. Even when the discussion concerns specific mechanisms—such as Section 301 investigations or new tariffs amid accusations of “labor exploitation”—the tone of Brazilian coverage remains the same: the United States is seen as a power ready to change the rules unilaterally and punish inconvenient partners. (www1.folha.uol.com.br)

In South Korea, this logic takes a different form: not through a tariff shock, but through fear of an “American-style deal,” in which an ally is offered more responsibility without clear guarantees. South Korean editorials and analysis write that the United States is demanding Seoul play a bigger role in deterring North Korea, while at the same time focusing its own resources on China and on domestic priorities. A particularly telling editorial piece by Kyunghyang Shinmun about a new U.S. envoy in Seoul says outright that he should not “push through” the American line, but “listen” to the Korean side and be a bridge. This is an important formulation because it reflects not anti-Americanism, but anxiety about asymmetry in the relationship. Even more sharply worded are articles arguing that the U.S. defense strategy is shifting responsibility for deterring the DPRK onto South Korea itself: this is read as an attempt by the U.S. to preserve global power, but to do so at the expense of allies. (khan.co.kr)

The Israeli storyline is the most tense and emotional because it is not rooted in economics, but in security and strategic trust. In local coverage, the United States is discussed primarily through Iran and Saudi Arabia: Israel is alarmed that Washington may strike regional deals without taking into account Israel’s “red lines.” A particularly telling analysis in Israel Hayom says that the United States apparently wants to conduct the campaign itself and leave Israel out of the picture, and also that the American decision regarding Saudi Arabia’s nuclear program could become an “existential danger” for Israel. At the same time, there are reports that in the United States the narrative is strengthening to the effect that Israel has “dragged” America into the war—and that this is destroying the previous bipartisan consensus in favor of Israel. For Israeli commentators, this is a worrying warning sign: it is no longer just a matter of the policy of a specific president, but of a long shift in the American public climate. (israelhayom.co.il)

In Brazil, unlike Israel, the tone is less defensive and more institutional: there, discussion focuses actively on how to respond to the United States diplomatically and economically. Foreign Minister Mauro Vieira, in local publications, emphasizes that Brazil sees no basis for new tariffs, and Lula’s government views negotiations and concessions as a way to gain time and reduce damage. But precisely this pragmatism is accompanied by growing public irritation: polls cited by Brazilian media show a worsening attitude toward the United States, and columnists connect this not only to tariffs, but also to a broader sense that Washington is interfering in someone else’s politics under the banner of “protecting fair trade.” In other words, in Brazil the United States is increasingly perceived as a partner that demands respect for rules—even as it changes them itself. (www1.folha.uol.com.br)

In South Korea, by contrast, the dominant emotion is not outrage but caution. Korean editorials acknowledge that military and technological cooperation with the United States remains necessary, but in almost every text there is a call not to confuse alliance with subordination. In a piece by Maeil Business about the United States’ request to Korean shipbuilders to build warships, Korean pragmatism is clearly visible: it is a chance for the local industry and, at the same time, a reminder that the United States is looking for ways to close its own military shortfalls through allied production supply chains. That is, Seoul sees the United States not only as a political partner, but also as a vast market—and, at the same time, as a source of strategic dependence. This is a very Korean perspective: not romantic and not antagonistic, but accountant-like and sober. (mk.co.kr)

The most interesting shared thought that emerges from these three countries is the gradual disappearance of the old idea of the United States as a predictable arbiter. In Israel, this is expressed through fear of being left out of major Middle East deals. In Brazil, through the sense that Washington can use tariffs as punishment for political disloyalty. In South Korea, through concern that the defense alliance is becoming ever more conditional and demands additional commitments from Seoul without comparable confidence in American protection. At the same time, none of these countries is “refusing” the United States; instead, all three are trying—each in its own way—to hold the relationship together. That is why their current reactions matter so much: they show not a rupture, but the erosion of trust proceeding not along ideological lines, but along lines of practical calculation. (www1.folha.uol.com.br)

There is also one more subtle but important local angle. In Brazil, U.S. harshness feeds a national discussion about sovereignty and economic autonomy; in Israel, the question is whether it’s time to rely less on an external superpower—even when it is formally an ally; in South Korea, it is about how far a country can be simultaneously dependent on the American military umbrella and, at the same time, an increasingly independent industrial power. So if everything is boiled down to one phrase, then in these three countries today the debate is not so much about whether the United States is “good” or “bad,” but about how much one can build a long-term policy around American reliability. And it is precisely this question that is uniting Jerusalem, Brasília and Seoul more strongly than any differences between them. (www1.folha.uol.com.br)

❮ ❯

The US through the eyes of Kyiv, Ankara and Pretoria: Trump, tariffs and a new price of...

In the past few weeks, discussion of the United States in Ukraine, Turkey and South Africa has been less about some abstract “American might” and more about a very specific question: what exactly Washington wants from partners, and how much it will cost. In Kyiv, the main nerve is the war and the risk that the US will pressure Ukraine into a compromise with Moscow; in Ankara, it is how under Trump to restart frozen defense ties and remove sanctions barriers; in Pretoria, it is how to withstand US tariffs and political pressure while also not losing access to the market and the diplomatic dialogue. That is why, in all three countries, the US is seen not as a distant ideological reference point, but as a source of immediate consequences for security, trade and domestic politics. (pravda.com.ua)

The most general theme that unites all three countries is the sense of a deal rather than a stable alliance. In Ukraine, that feeling is especially painful: according to the KМИС, 56% of Ukrainians believe that the US is pressuring Kyiv to force it into concessions to Russia. This debate is being fueled by news about Donald Trump’s calls with Volodymyr Zelensky and Vladimir Putin, as well as reports about possible “plans” by the US to end the war. Ukrainian media conveys these signals not as neutral diplomacy, but as a question of the state’s survival. In one post, Ukrainian Pravda directly says that many Ukrainians feel pressure from Washington has intensified, while in another piece the outlet wrote that Trump and Zelensky discussed not only the war, but also licensed production of Patriot—meaning not just political support, but practical defense cooperation. (pravda.com.ua)

In Turkey, the same “deal” logic looks more pragmatic and less dramatic, but with the same undertone: the US is a partner you can negotiate with if Ankara has strategic value. The NATO summit in Ankara in July became, for Turkish commentators, a symbol that President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan could again act as a mediator between the West and a more hard-edged, unpredictable Washington. In an Anadolu Ajansı piece about the summit, it was emphasized that Trump spoke about lifting sanctions against Turkey and about a possible rethinking of the F-35 issue, while Turkey’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs linked the personal relationship between Erdoğan and Trump to the hope of reducing tension within NATO. (AA and AA described this logic as a chance to open a “new page” in relations with Washington and Brussels, but behind that optimism there is also older Turkish irritation: Turkey is a NATO ally that still lives with the consequences of CAATSA and being excluded from F-35. (aa.com.tr)

That is why, in Turkey, talk about the US today almost always boils down to the question of defense autonomy. In AA’s analysis of CAATSA, it is stated that Turkey turned out to be the only NATO member against which those sanctions were applied, and that the dispute over F-35 and the purchase of F-16 remains the key point of friction. This matters not only as a bilateral conflict, but also as part of a broader Turkish idea: the US is still needed, but trust can be extended only to the extent that it is willing to take Turkish independence into account. This view is especially noticeable in AA’s analysis of NATO in Ankara, which emphasizes that Turkey managed to position itself as a strong member of the alliance and that European security without it does not look complete. In other words, the American topic in Turkey is not just about “liking/don’t like Trump,” but about the price of the role of an indispensable player. (aa.com.tr)

In South Africa, discussion of the US is far more colored by economics and symbolism. Here, the focus is not so much on war and NATO, but on US tariffs, AGOA and the overall cooling of relations with the Trump administration. News24 reported that Parks Tau, Minister of Trade and Industry, promised to continue negotiations with Washington to “either eliminate or reduce” the 12.5% tariff on South African exports imposed despite consultations with the USTR and US hearings. And in a Wandile Sihlobo column for News24, a more sober assessment is offered: extending AGOA does not solve the problem, because baseline US tariffs still make South African exports uncompetitive. For South African business and agribusiness elites, the US is a market that cannot be lost, but one that is working less and less according to the rules of “preferential access.” (news24.com)

This economic line in South Africa is quickly turning political. TimesLIVE wrote about former President Thabo Mbeki’s speech at a reception marking the 250th anniversary of US independence: he urged the restoration of friendship with America and recalled “mutually beneficial cooperation” based on democracy and development. But the same piece admits that relations remain tense due to criticism of Trump, tariffs, South Africa’s exclusion from the G20 in Florida, and uncertainty around AGOA. In a column by Kuseni Dlamini in Sunday Times, a more strategic thought was voiced: if Pretoria misreads the scale of geopolitical change, it risks ending up on the sidelines of a new geopolitics. This is not anti-Americanism; it is concern that the US no longer guarantees a predictable order, but only asks partners to adapt. (timeslive.co.za)

But South Africa also has an even sharper layer—a symbolic war over the image of the country in the US. Here, people discuss not only tariffs, but also campaigns that, according to local commentators, distort South Africa within the American political arena. In Mail & Guardian and another M&G piece, criticism is directed at trips by South African right-wing activists to the US and at what the authors call “the white genocide lie.” This is an unusual local storyline, but it is very telling: the US becomes the stage where South Africa’s internal conflicts are exported—and then returned as international pressure. For readers in the US, this may look like a marginal story, but for South African commentators it is a question of national sovereignty and who has the right to speak for the country across the ocean. (mg.co.za)

If we reduce all three countries to a common denominator, the result is a rather harsh but accurate formula: the US is now seen as a power that has not disappeared, but has become more transactional and less predictable. Ukraine fears it will pay for that transactionalism with territory or a forced compromise; Turkey is trying to turn it into a space for bargaining over sanctions, F-35 and its role within NATO; South Africa is forced to respond through tariffs, trade regimes and protecting its own image. And that is why in these countries, the US is discussed not as “the leader of the free world,” but as a powerful actor whose decisions immediately become someone else’s domestic politics. (pravda.com.ua)

This is also the main unexpected conclusion drawn from local reactions: today the debate about the US outside America is less and less often conducted in the language of ideology, and more and more in the language of harm, benefit, and the ability to bargain for room to maneuver. In Kyiv, it is the language of war; in Ankara, the language of security; in Pretoria, the language of trade and dignity. And in all three cases, Donald Trump has become not just the President of the United States, but a symbol of a new era in which allies are forced to prove their usefulness every day. (pravda.com.ua)

❮ ❯

How debates about America are playing out right now in Saudi Arabia, South Africa and Israel: from the...

Right now in these three countries, talk about the United States is not focused on abstract “American politics,” but on very specific issues: in Saudi Arabia, around the nuclear deal with Washington and its impact on Gulf security; in South Africa, around American tariffs and reduced aid; and in Israel, around how America itself is changing—the very America Israel has grown accustomed to relying on, especially amid the war with Iran, pressure on Netanyahu, and growing skepticism toward Israeli policy within the United States. (arabnews.com)

The most visible common theme is not simply “America as a great power,” but America as a partner that either provides security—or suddenly changes the rules. This is especially clear in Saudi commentary: in Arab News and Al Riyadh, the peaceful atom agreement with the US is described as both historic and strategically beneficial, with local authors stressing that the deal did not emerge out of thin air and is grounded in decades of contact, as well as in the calculation that Riyadh will not want to depend on alternative players such as China, Russia, or Europe. Abdulrahman al-Rashed writes directly that if the United States refused to cooperate, it would push Saudi Arabia to seek another partner—weakening American influence; in the same logic, he notes that the current war with Iran has shown that China’s economic power does not equal willingness to assume military and political responsibility. (arabnews.com)

But there is also a subtler layer to the Saudi response: local commentators see in the agreement not only technology and energy, but also a test of how seriously the United States takes the region. Arab News writes that both Saudi Crown Prince and Donald Trump discussed regional security, maritime navigation, and US contacts with Iran—and Saudi positioning boils down to the familiar formula: restraint, dialogue, and protection of international sea lanes, especially the Strait of Hormuz. In other words, for Saudi Arabia, America is not discussed as an ideological symbol, but as a guarantor that must either genuinely secure the region—or at least not derail a fragile diplomatic architecture. (arabnews.com)

In South Africa, discussion of America is altogether different in tone: it is worrying and practical. Here, the United States is discussed primarily as a source of pressure. In a News24 column by Russell Rensburg on cuts to US aid, he says the country has yet to present a clear plan for what happens in case of a funding shortfall in HIV and related services, with the shortfall itself estimated at roughly 7 billion rand per year; the author emphasizes that thousands of healthcare workers’ salaries and access for the most vulnerable groups to treatment have been hit. This is no longer pure geopolitics—it is a conversation about how Washington’s decisions directly affect public health in South Africa. (news24.com)

At the same time, there is also a trade storyline. News24 reports that South Africa’s Minister of Trade and Industry Parks Tau promised to continue talks with the United States in order to eliminate or reduce the 12.5% tariff on South African exports; he also stresses that the tariff was introduced despite written representations from the government, business and trade unions, as well as consultations with the office of the US Trade Representative and hearings in Washington. This detail matters: in South Africa’s perception, America does not look like a distant hub of the liberal international order right now, but like a hard-nosed negotiator who can, with a single decision, create direct costs for exporters, farmers and industry. (news24.com)

But there is also a broader political layer in South Africa—irritation that Washington publicly assesses the country’s internal problems. In older analytical and editorial texts, News24 links the deterioration of relations with the US not only to Trump, but also to accumulated ideological differences, as well as to the fact that the American side uses “megaphone” diplomacy; in newer pieces, the same outlet discusses how Saudi and South African economies experience American policy differently—yet for South Africa, the overall motive remains the same: the United States is seen as a powerful but unpredictable center that simultaneously criticizes, punishes, and demands adaptation. (news24.com)

In Israel, discussion of the US is even more emotional, because many local authors believe the strategic foundation that Israel once saw as solid no longer looks as strong as before. At The Times of Israel, several columns talk about a “skeptical America,” about generational and party shifts in the United States, and about the fact that the old Israeli argument no longer works for the audience that exists today. Seth Eisenberg writes that Israel needs to explain itself to America, which no longer treats the alliance as a moral given; Yohanán Schimmelpfennig goes even further, arguing that under Netanyahu, Israel replaced steady diplomacy with personal access to power in Washington—and now pays for it with dependence on an American re-negotiation of the terms of the game. (blogs.timesofisrael.com)

The most telling internal Israeli debate about Donald Trump. At The Times of Israel there is both criticism and attempts to defend the previous Trump–Netanyahu axis—but even critical authors are arguing not about individual gestures anymore, but about what Trump did to America itself and what that means for Israel. Mitchell Bard, for example, writes that a portion of right-wing circles in the US has strengthened the belief that Israel has become part of the problem rather than the solution, and that disappointment with “America First” has fueled isolationists who are willing to undermine the US–Israel alliance. In the Israeli press, then, America is discussed as a politically shifting organism, where the old bipartisan base of support for Israel is no longer guaranteed. (blogs.timesofisrael.com)

If these reactions are boiled down to several themes, the first is American reliability as security. Saudi Arabia, unlike Israel, currently sees the US primarily as a partner in maintaining Gulf stability and technological development—not only as a military patron. At the same time, Saudi texts insist on the idea that America must prove its readiness not with words, but with the ability to keep the region from escalating. Israel, by contrast, feels that American support remains big but no longer unconditional, and that Washington is ready to limit Israel’s freedom of maneuver in pursuit of broader regional goals. (arabnews.com)

The second theme is American economic nationalism and its side effects. For South Africa, it takes the form of tariffs and reduced aid—meaning a direct hit to the budget, to healthcare, and to exports. For Saudi Arabia, the same trend is read more softly: local commentators see the US as a country that can still be a strategic investor and partner, but not as the only possible destination for long-term modernization. That is why the texts pay so much attention to diversification, scientific independence, and energy autonomy. Israel sees another aspect of the same phenomenon: America’s domestic political shift makes even familiar allied relationships conditional and more transactional. (news24.com)

The third theme is Iran and the regional war. For Saudi Arabia, this is almost an existential question about shipping, straits and the cost of the conflict on its own territory. For Israel, it is both a question of the military campaign and of how far the United States is prepared to go alongside Jerusalem—and where they will start to slow down for their own agenda. For South Africa it is a less direct storyline, but it still appears as part of the global atmosphere: South African analysts increasingly write that American foreign policy in the era of Trump has become tougher, less predictable, and more tied to the internal logic of power rather than to international rules. (arabnews.com)

The most interesting local intuition—one that is not obvious from US media—sounds differently in each country, but converges on one point: America is no longer perceived as simply “the center of the world.” In Saudi Arabia, it is a center with which one can and should conduct a major strategic trade—while it is still able to provide security and technology. In South Africa, it is a center whose decisions must be lived through, mitigated, and worked around—especially when they hit healthcare, trade and reputation. In Israel, it is a center that no longer has to adapt to old Israeli expectations—meaning Israel must learn again how to speak with American society, not only with the White House. That is precisely the main international storyline of recent days: not what America thinks about the world, but how the world is learning to live with the fact that America has become tougher, more fragmented, and less predictable. (arabnews.com)

❮ ❯

The US from a local angle: how Brazil, Saudi Arabia and South Africa are arguing about the United States...

Today, international attention on the United States in these three countries is clustering around three key fault lines: American protectionism and trade pressure; American policy toward Iran and security in the Middle East; and how Washington is intervening — or, in the view of local commentators, intervening too actively — in the internal affairs of other states. In Brazil, the main nerve is the Trump administration’s tariff blow to Brazilian exports and the related controversy over sovereignty and elections; in Saudi Arabia, the focus has shifted to the US-Iran standoff, its impact on the Strait of Hormuz and oil markets; in South Africa, the American agenda has almost merged with local disputes over migration, tariffs, AGOA, and how Trump is redefining relations with Pretoria. (www1.folha.uol.com.br)

In Brazil, the reaction to the United States today is primarily economic, but it has clearly already grown beyond pure economics. After Washington announced new duties on Brazilian goods, local media and business associations began talking about a “tarifaço” as a political, not merely a trade instrument. Folha wrote that Brazil’s effective rate after exemptions is lower than the nominal 25%, but still painful enough to hit the export basket and business sentiment. In an editorial, Folha calls the measure “unfair and illogical,” and argues that Brazil’s optimal response is not mirrored escalation, but opening its own economy; at the same time, industrialists and Fiesp directly linked Trump’s blow to domestic politics and attacks on the Lula government. Against this backdrop, the conflict with the US quickly became an election talking point: polls relayed by Brazilian outlets show that many voters hold Flávio Bolsonaro responsible for the tariffs, while Lula himself uses the issue as a banner for “defending sovereignty.” (www1.folha.uol.com.br)

But in Brazil, the US is being discussed not only as a trade heavyweight. One especially prominent storyline has been an American delegation coming, according to the US State Department, to discuss “the integrity of elections” and freedom of speech; Brazilian media and officials have interpreted it through the lens of interference. UOL and Folha reported that in Brazil the visit created tension precisely because it coincided with an already toxic argument over tariffs, the election campaign, and the legitimacy of institutions—and, amid unprecedented pressure from Washington, President Lula even published an article in the Washington Post calling the new tariffs a mistake. Therefore, Brazil’s reaction to the United States today is twofold: on the one hand, resentment at economic pressure; on the other, suspicion that trade pressure and the rhetoric about “free and fair elections” are working toward the same political goal. (www1.folha.uol.com.br)

In Saudi Arabia, the American topic is almost entirely swallowed up by the war and de-escalation efforts around Iran. Saudi and Arab media are closely tracking how Riyadh, Doha and Kuwait coordinate their response to escalation between Washington and Tehran, because this is not about abstract geopolitics, but about the safety of shipping, the price of oil, and the stability of the Persian Gulf itself. Newspapers such as Al Riyadh and Okaz write about a US-Iranian “memorandum of understanding,” noting that Trump declared it finished, but that the negotiation channel has not disappeared—and highlighting the risk that a new round of strikes could take the conflict to a level where nobody wins. Arab News and Asharq Al-Awsat stress that the only beneficiaries of closing the Strait of Hormuz would be supporters of chaos, while regional economies would be the ones to lose first; therefore, local voices are calling for not an “American victory,” but a lowering of the temperature. This is where an important Saudi lens comes into view: the United States is seen not as a moral arbiter, but as a force whose decisions immediately affect the kingdom’s and its neighbors’ energy security. (aawsat.com)

At the same time, Saudi commentators see in American policy—and in the broader shift it reflects—a change of meaning: it no longer looks predictable. In Riyadh and Okaz, the message is that Washington is both negotiating and displaying strength, while the oil market reacts to every remark from the White House. That creates the impression that the US keeps the region in a constant zone of risk, where diplomacy and coercion go hand in hand. Hence the local conclusion: for Saudi Arabia, relations with the US are no longer just a security partnership, but ongoing management of uncertainty. Against this backdrop, recent American approvals of arms deals for Saudi Arabia and Kuwait are being interpreted not as gestures of trust, but as part of a longer game to maintain balance in the region. (aljazeera.net)

In South Africa, the American agenda sounds different, but it is no less sharp here: the US is being discussed through tariffs, AGOA, diplomatic coolness and Trump’s migration policy. TimesLIVE and News24 write that Washington has already slapped South African exports with high duties, left AGOA’s future uncertain, and even excluded South Africa from G20 activities in 2026. At the same time, local media hosted debates over whether this is simply hard trade policy or political punishment. Figures such as former President Thabo Mbeki are calling for not breaking the channel with the US, but instead seeking “friendship” and mutually beneficial cooperation. Meanwhile, tougher columnists argue that Trump is effectively rewriting the terms of the relationship in the spirit of America First. In day-to-day policy terms, it is already felt as a question of jobs, exports and the country’s diplomatic weight. (timeslive.co.za)

But South Africa’s most unusual—and arguably most South African—response to the US is a dispute over migration and over who exactly is considered a “victim” deserving of American asylum. News24 and Mail & Guardian describe how the Trump administration sharply reduced the overall refugee admissions quota while building a special reception infrastructure for Afrikaners, which local authors describe as a near-racial filter under the guise of a humanitarian program. At the same time, TimesLIVE and local analysts discuss South Africa’s migration crisis, street protests against foreigners, and how Trump’s rhetoric and figures associated with him feed the idea of a “white genocide” and legitimize highly controversial narratives. That is why South Africa’s reaction to the US here is especially layered: it includes outrage at the double standards of US immigration policy; irritation that Washington turns internal South African conflicts into an international storyline; and fear that loud declarations from the White House are pushing local radical movements toward even greater confidence. (news24.com)

If we put all three countries together into one picture, the common nerve is obvious: the United States is perceived today not just as a “distant superpower,” but as a source of direct pressure on local politics, the economy and identity. Brazilians argue about how to keep Trump’s tariffs from becoming a weapon in their elections; Saudis debate how the American strategy toward Iran could either collapse or stabilize the entire region; South Africans are trying to understand why Washington simultaneously punishes them in trade, cools relations diplomatically, and selectively hands out humanitarian labels. In each case, the United States ends up serving as a mirror of local anxieties: sovereignty, security, fairness, and the right to define the political agenda themselves. (www1.folha.uol.com.br)

❮ ❯

Troubling signals from Washington: how Israel, Japan and South Africa read the US’s new line

In recent weeks, in three very different countries—Israel, Japan and South Africa—attention to the United States has shifted away from abstract “American policy” and toward very specific issues: a deal—or a pause—in Washington’s relations with Iran; tariffs and the overall unpredictability of the Trump administration; and how America pressures allies and partners when it comes to trade, security and ideology. In Israeli outlets, the United States is discussed primarily through the lens of Iran and anxiety that Washington may place its domestic political calculations above Israel’s interests. In Japanese media, the dominant themes are tariffs, technological and military uncertainty, and the question of whether America under Trump is eroding the very foundation of the alliance system. In South African coverage, the United States no longer looks like a distant global arbiter; it is portrayed as a source of direct diplomatic and economic pressure—from disputes over land reform and AGOA to what many commentators consider a humiliating confrontation over the G20 and “white refugees.” (jpost.com)

The overarching common theme is the sense that America has become less predictable and less reliable than its allies have grown accustomed to believing. In Japan, this is expressed especially sharply: Yūiti Hosoya, writing in The Japan Times, says that in less than two years of his second term, Donald Trump has created a “notable number of geopolitical shocks,” including “mutual tariffs,” an operation in Venezuela, and joint U.S. and Israeli strikes on Iran; in his view, this volatility makes the international environment increasingly unpredictable. At the same time, Japanese commentators directly link American tariffs to a blow to the auto industry and, more broadly, to the erosion of alliance reliability: one Japan Times piece describes how Trump’s tariffs “continue to hit Japanese automakers,” while another says the United States is still planning to honor previous trade arrangements even as new tariff threats already hang in the air. From this, Tokyo draws not only an economic but also a strategic conclusion: if Washington changes the rules so easily, Japan must think about its own autonomy faster—and more decisively. (japantimes.co.jp)

In Israel, the same unpredictability is read through the Iran storyline. Here, almost every major commentary is built around the fear that the American president may view Iran primarily as a foreign-policy case to secure an internal political victory, with Israel treated as an ally whose priorities do not necessarily match America’s. In Jerusalem Post, David Weinberg—while acknowledging Trump’s “solid” track record against Iran—writes that Trump’s tough rhetoric, and especially that of his vice president, J. D. Vance, toward Israel, makes it hard to trust the current line from Washington. He cites analyst Michael Doran: a deal with Tehran may be needed for Trump to open the Strait of Hormuz and bring down oil prices—meaning it is first and foremost a political calculation for the election campaign. In Times of Israel, Seth Eisenberg puts the Israeli fear even more bluntly: for the United States, it could be a deal that “relieves pressure” on energy markets and delivers a win on the home front, while for Israel it is a dangerous pause after which Iran will restore its resources, proxy networks and nuclear program. (jpost.com)

An important nuance in Israel’s response is that Trump is not seen here merely as an anti-Israel or pro-Israel leader; he is assessed as a figure who must be both thanked and feared. This is visible in the tone of “Jewish groups push back against Trump’s Iran deal — but for now more quietly than in 2015”: it says directly that many analysts consider Trump’s framework “worse” than Obama’s deal because it leaves Iran a path to economic recovery and does not resolve the issue of the missile program and support for proxies. And while Israeli leaders—though not Netanyahu—publicly object to the American line, this is also because it may force Israel to stop fighting Hezbollah in southern Lebanon. The text also cites a particularly telling figure: 71% of Israelis, according to a Channel 12 poll, do not trust Trump to protect Israel’s interests in negotiations with Iran. This is no longer a debate about tactics; it is a debate about whether the United States can even be considered an automatic guarantor of Israel’s security. (timesofisrael.com)

A key local motive in Israel is historical memory, which turns modern diplomacy into a moral drama. In Times of Israel, Seth Eisenberg writes that in Israel there is already talk of Munich—not as a literal parallel, but as a warning: when aggressive regimes interpret concessions as weakness, a temporary appeasement can become the prelude to a new threat. That helps explain why Israel’s reaction to the American course toward Iran is rarely neutral: even those who recognize Trump’s right to bargain pragmatically add immediately that, in the region, time is not measured by America’s electoral cycles, but by the risk to lives and to statehood. (blogs.timesofisrael.com)

In Japan, however, the emotional center of the debate is different: there is less drama, but more systemic anxiety. Japan views the United States as the foundation of world trade, technology and security—so any wobble in America’s line is perceived as a threat to the long-term horizon. The Japan Times links the current American policy directly to the worsening situation for Japan’s auto industry, and in another column asks what will happen to Japan-U.S. relations in a supposed “golden era”—answering that it’s “not quite” what politicians usually promise. Especially indicative is the comment that under Trump, America is shifting “closer to the concerns of religious conservatives than to democracy and human rights.” For a Japanese reader, this matters not only as a moral rebuke; it is also a signal that the United States is becoming less universalist and more ideologically narrow—meaning the alliance with it has to be rebuilt on tougher, more pragmatic grounds. (japantimes.co.jp)

A separate layer of Japanese discussion is economic discipline and fear of tariff nationalism. The Japan Times’ coverage of tariffs shows that Japanese elites see American levies not as a short-term noise campaign, but as a structural blow to the export model—especially automobiles and related supply chains. In that sense, in Japanese press, the United States no longer looks like merely an ally, but a partner that can simultaneously demand investment in America, promise to honor agreements, and then change the rules through new tariff schemes. Hence the broader conclusion: Tokyo must not only protect specific industries, but also think about how to live in a world where American predictability is no longer guaranteed. (japantimes.co.jp)

South Africa’s reaction to the United States is the most conflict-ridden and, arguably, the most post-colonial in tone. Here, America is discussed not as the “center of the Western world,” but as a force that interferes in domestic affairs, imposes conditions and is still trying to morally redefine the local political order. In IOL, one column states outright that U.S.–South African relations have “sharply worsened” at the start of 2026 and reached the lowest level since 1994: Washington criticized land reform, accused Pretoria of discriminating against white farmers, clashed over BRICS and a case against Israel in the International Court of Justice, and also paused aid and reviewed AGOA trade privileges. This is no longer just a diplomatic quarrel; for South African commentators, it is a debate about sovereignty and the right of the country to conduct an independent foreign policy. (iol.co.za)

The most emotionally charged topic in South Africa is the myth of “white genocide” and how Trump has built it into his own policy. Hassan Lorgat, in IOL, writes that on April 18, 2026, Trump again repeated false claims about alleged targeted destruction of white Afrikaner farmers, and then used this rhetoric to speed up a mechanism for relocating “persecuted” South Africans to the United States. The author emphasizes that in reality it is almost exclusively about white Afrikaners, and cites Refugee Processing Center data: of 4,499 refugees who arrived in the United States from October 1, 2025, 4,496 were from South Africa. Especially telling is the response he quotes from Afrikaner groups “Not in our name,” which reject the scheme as a dangerous distortion of reality that serves American right-wing theories about the “great replacement.” For a South African reader, this is not just a dispute over facts, but a question of who has the right to speak on behalf of Afrikaners—and who is turning local social complexity into an ideological tool for America’s internal struggle. (iol.co.za)

Another strong South African motive is irritation that Washington links trade with political demands. IOL reports that the United States does not soften its list of demands: it is concerned not only with the expropriation law and B-BBEE policy, but also with South Africa’s relations with Iran. This matters because, through local lenses, American economic conditions are read as an attempt to impose an internal social model through external pressure. And in discussions of the G20 and South Africa’s status in global politics, there is almost a symbolic rebuke: America wants not so much to argue on the merits as to humiliate a country that is not willing to follow its line on Israel, BRICS and other sensitive issues. (iol.co.za)

If you put it all together, the overall picture looks like this: in Israel, the United States is discussed as a potentially unreliable—but still indispensable—partner in war and peace in the Middle East; in Japan, as the backbone of a system that it is itself shaking through tariffs, ideological framing and unpredictability; in South Africa, as a power that no longer merely influences but instead presses, moralizes and reframes local policy to suit its own internal conflicts. But these stories also have a common core: in all three countries, U.S. policy is no longer perceived as an external backdrop. It has become part of their own political debates—about security, sovereignty, the economy and whether the United States can still be seen as a stabilizing force in the world. (jpost.com)

❮ ❯